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Digitized  by  the  Internet  Archive 

in  2007  with  funding  from 

IVIicrosoft  Corporation 


http://www.archive.org/details/cranereaderOOpickrich 


THE 


Crane  Fourth  Eeader 


COMPILED  BY 

LILLIAlSr  H.  PICKElsr 


Crane  &  Company,  Publishers 

ToPEKA,  Kansas 

1902 


;.  t  «,"  t  y"i  ^'■\-^     '- 


Copyright  by 
Crane  &  Company,  Topeka,  Kansas 
1902 
ePUCATtON  DEffi 


PREFACE. 


Teachers  will  find  it  profitable  to  assign  lessons  from 
different  portions  of  the  book,  instead  of  having  these 
selections  read  in  succession.  There  is  no  reason  except 
tradition,  for  reading  "through''  fourth  and  fifth  read- 
ers. Selections,  chosen  for  their  relation  to  topics  which 
are  being  studied  in  geography,  history,  or  biography, 
give  added  interest  to  the  lessons  of  the  week. 

"Anniversary"  readings,  chosen  for  their  special  con- 
nection with  the  birthday  of  a  noted  individual,  lend  zest 
to  the  assignments  for  a  given  date. 

Let  pupils  sometimes  choose  passages  from  their  favorite 
authors,  selecting  paragraphs  or  stanzas  to  be  read  with 
comments  by  members  of  the  class.  Students  should  be 
encouraged  to  recognize  and  commend  beauties  of  thought 
and  diction. 

Lillian  H.  Picken. 


(S) 

54!r,47 


TABLE  OF  CONTENTS. 


PAGE. 

Preliminary. —  Instructions    and    Suggestions    to    Teachers. —  Defini- 
tions, etc.,  etc 7-19 

A  Baby  Cuttle-Fi&h   67 

A  Bee-Hunt Washington  Irving,  201 

Abou  Ben  Adhem    Leigh  Hunt,     95 

A  Child's  Dream  of  a  Star   Charles  Dickens,  247 

Alexander  Selkirk   William  Cowper,  186 

An  Old- Fashioned  Girl Louisa  May  Alcott,  140 

A  Story  of  Michael  Angelo 70 

A  Pleasant  Incident Louisa  May  Alcott,     75 

Awakening  of  Rip  Van  Winkle Washington  Irving,  228 

Boston  Hymn Ralph  Waldo  Emerson,  154 

Boys   Wanted    194 

Charles  Dickens's  Letter  to  His  Son   Charles  Dickens,     83 

Crossing  the  Bar  Alfred  Tennyson,  242 

Crusoe's  Home    Daniel  Defoe,     63 

David  Copperfield  Finds  His  Aunt,  Part  I , Charles  Dickens,  308 

David  Copperfield  Finds  His  Aunt,  Part  II 312 

Down  to  Sleep Helen  Hunt  Jackson,  346 

Elegy  Written  in  a  Country  Church- Yard Thomas  Gray,  236 

Every  Day Elizabeth  Akers  Allen,  195 

Farming  Ralph  Waldo  Emerson,  136 

Fate  of  the  North- American  Indians Joseph  Story,  191 

Four   Sunbeams    274 

Franklin's  Arrival  at  Philadelphia   Benjamin  Franklin,     46 

Frozen  Words    Joseph  Addison,  286 

Gradation    Josiah  Gilbert  Holland,     56 

He  Liveth  Long  Who  Liveth  Well Horatius  Bonar,  109 

Holland  Mary  Mapes  Dodge,  293 

How  Sleep  the  Brave  William  Collins,  339 

Incidents  in  the  Life  of  Washington  253 

Integrity  and  Industry   William  McKinley,     55 

Little   Bell    Thomas   Westwood,  146 

Making  Maple  Sugar  in  Canada,  Part  I Charles  W.  Gordon,  215 

Making  Maple  Sugar  in  Canada,  Part  II 217 

Mark  Hopkins   David  Dudley  Field,  188 

Measuring  the  Baby   Emma  Alice  Broicne,     61 

Memory's  Big  Photograph  Album   Edward  Wallis  Hoch,  326 

New  Every  Morning  Lois  Cateshy,  273 


Nobody's  Child   107 

Origin  of  Coal Lyman  C.  Wooster,  272 

Philip,  My  King   Dinah  Mulock  Craik,  252 

Pictures  of  Memory .Alice  Gary,  243 

Rain  in  the  Garret Donald  Grant  Mitchell,  327 

Rain  on  the  Roof   Coates  Kinney,  324 

Saint  Genevieve    Adapted,  283 

Seven  Times  Four .Jean  Ingelow,  144 

Song  of  the  Steam G.  W.  Cutter,  180 

Sponge 41 

Spring Rudyard   Kipling,  245 

Stick  to  Your  Bush    73 

Story  of  the  Butterfly 5S 

Thanksgiving ..Unidentified,  297 

Thanksgiving  Dinner  at  Plumfield .Louisa  M.  Alcott,  164 

The  Barefoot  Boy John  G.  Whittier,     37 

The  Birds  of  Spring Washington  Irving,  156 

The  Bluebird    Emily  Huntington  Miller,     54 

The  Blue  and  the  Gray Francis  Miles  Finch,     29 

The  Boston  Massacre    Nathaniel  Hawthorne,  317 

The  Bobolink    Washington    Irving,  158 

The  Bugle-Song ...Alfred    Tennyson,     66 

The  Builders   Henry  W.  Longfellow,  100 

The  Children    Richard   Realf,     86 

The  Coyote Mark    Twain,  354 

The  Day  is  Done   .Henry  W.  Longfellow,  222 

The  Dervish  and  the  Camel    197 

The  Dutch  Boer  and  His  Horse   Elihu  Burritt,  212 

The  Engineer  and  His  Little  Friends  90 

The  First  Snowfall   James  Russell  Lowell,     31 

The  George  Junior  Republic World's  Work,  207 

The  Golden  Fleece,  Part  1 30a 

The  Golden  Fleece,  Part  II : 303 

The  Heritage    James  Russell  Lowell,     51 

The  Hero  of  Blackwater    Adapted,  280 

The  Inchcape  Rock   Robert  Southey,  203 

The  King  of  the  Golden  River,  Part  I John  Ruskin,  328 

The  King  of  the  Golden  River,  Part  II 331 

The  King  of  the  Golden  River,  Part  III 336 

The  Last  Leaf   0.  W.  Holmes,     21 

The  Life-Boat    170 

The  Long  Ago  Benjamin  F.  Taylor,  307 

The  Miraculous  Pitcher,  Part  I Nathaniel  Hawthorne,  110 

The  Miraculous  Pitcher,  Part  II 119 

The  Miraculous  Pitcher,  Part  III 128 

The  Mocking  Bird 96 

The  Miser    Charles  Dickens,  266 

The  Moon's   Story    176 

The  Mountain   Brook    270 


D  TABLE    OF    CONTENTS. 

The  Night  Before  Christmas    Clement  C.  Moore,    44 

The  Normans     290 

The  Old  Arm-Chair    Eliza  Cook,  260 

The  Old   Oaken  Bucket    Samuel  Woodworth,  282 

The  Pearl-Diver    Felicia  D.   Hemans,  162 

The  Pacific  Ocean   Philip  Henry  Gosse,  340 

The  Pet  Squirrel 149 

The  Pine-Tree  Shilling,  Part  I   Nathaniel  Hawthorne,     24 

The  Pine-Tree  Shilling,   Part   II : 27 

The  Planting  of  the  Apple  Tree William  Cullen  Bryant,  262 

The  Power  of  Habit  John  B.  Gough,    78 

The  Redbird    Andrew   Downing,  246 

The  Shipwreck  of  Robinson  Crusoe  Daniel  Defoe,  183 

The  Story  of  King  Midas 88 

The  Skater  and  the  Wolves 224 

The  Sleigh-Ride    258 

The  Soul   William  Wordsioorth,  172 

The  Spider  Speaks  for  Herself Olive  Thome  Miller,  276 

The  Spindle,  the  Needle,  and  the  Shuttle 348 

The  Storks    of    Strasburg 173 

The  Sun    219 

The  Tale  of  Macbeth,  Part  I Sir  Walter  Scott,  101 

The  Tale  of  Macbeth,  Part  II  104 

The  Three  Kingdoms   J.  E.  Bendall,  344 

The  Tree Bjornstjerne    Bjornson,  169 

They  Also   Serve    . .  .' John   Milton,  172 

Those  Homely  Weeds   Leander  S.  Keyser,     33 

Tom  Brown's  Experience   Thomas  Hughes,  238 

Turning  the  Grindstone Benjamin  Franklin,     49 

What  the  Chimney  Sang  Bret  Harte,  200 

What  the  Winds  Bring Edmund  C.  Stedman,  135 

Words  Adelaide  Anne  Procter,     81 

Words  and  Songs  Robert  Louis  Stevenson,  211 


THE  CRANE  FOURTH  HEADER, 


EEADING. 


Reading  is  the  comprehension  and  transmission  of 
thought  from  the  written  or  printed  page,  and  is  of  two 
kinds,  silent  and  audible. 

Silent  Reading  is  comprehending  or  interpreting  the 
thoughts  of  an  author  from  the  written  or  printed  page. 

Audible  Reading  is  the  correct  interpretation  of 
thought  from  the  written  or  printed  page,  and  the  trans- 
mission of  this  thought  to  others  by  means  of  the  organs 
of  speech. 

A  Word  is  the  sign  of  an  idea. 

A  Spoken  word  is  a  sound  or  a  combination  of  sounds 
used  to  represent  an  idea. 

A  Written  word  is  a  character  or  combination  of  char- 
acters used  to  represent  an  idea. 

Emphasis  is  any  peculiar  utterance  by  which  words, 
phrases  or  sentences  are  made  more  prominent. 

Inflection  is  the  sliding  of  the  voice  either  upward  or 
downward.  The  upward  slide  is  marked  thus,  {'),  the 
downward  slide  thus  C). 

(7) 


8    '^     ''    '     ''     '^flE   CRANE   FOURTH   READER. 
RULES  FOR  INFLECTION. 

Imperative  sentences  and  earnest  entreaty  receive  the 
falling  inflection. 

EXAMPIiES. 

"  Go  to  the  grave  of  buried  love  and  there  meditate^." 

"  Begone^, 
Run"'  to  your  houses,  fall^  upon  your  knees, 
Pray^  to  the  gods  to  intermit  the  plagues." 

"  0,  save^  me,  Hubert^",  save^  me !     My  eyes  are  out 
Even  with  the  fierce  looks  of  those  bloody  men." 

Interrogative  sentences  receive  the  rising  inflection. 

EXAMPIiE. 

"  Shall  we  gather  strength  by  irresolution  and  inaction'  ?     Are  fleets 
and  armies  necessary  to  a  work  of  love  and  reconciliation'  ?  " 

Interrogative  sentences  that  begin  with  a  pronoun  or 
an  adverb  receive  the  falling  inflection. 

BXAMPIiES. 

"What  is  it  that  gentlemen  wish^?     What  would  they  have^?     Why 
stand  we  here  idle^  ?  " 

"Who  says  this^?" 

"  Who  '11  prove  it  at  his  peril  on  my  head^  ? " 

Where  a  pause  is  required,  but  the  sense  is  incomplete, 
the  rising  inflection  is  generally  required. 

EXAMPIiES. 

"  When  Freedom  from  her  mountain  height', 
Unfurled  her  standard  to  the  air', 
She  tore  the  azure  robe  of  night'. 
And  set  the  stars  of  glory  there""." 

A  Group  of  words  making  complete  sense  should  re- 
ceive the  falling  inflection. 


THE    CKANE    FOUKTH    KEADEK.  9 

HiliTJSTBATIONS. 

"  Friends',   countrymen'    and   lovers',   hear   me   for   my  cause""    and  be 
silent  that  you  may  hear^." 

"  The  cynic  is  the  human  owl'',  vigilant  in  darkness  and  blind  to  lighf ; 
mousing  for  vermin,  and  never  seeing  noble  game""." 

Antithesis  in  reading  is  contrast. 

EXAMPI/E. 

The  high'  and  the  low"",  the  rich'  and  the  poor^. 

The  different  parts  of  the  antithesis  should  receive  op- 
posite inflections. 

EXAMPLES. 

"It  is  sown  in  corruption';    it  is  raised  in  incorruption^. 
It  is  sown  a  natural'  body;    it  is  raised  a  spiritual^  body." 

"  By  honor'  and  dishonor^ ;    by  evil'  report  and  good^  report ;    as  de- 
ceivers', and  yet  true"^." 

The  rising  slide  is  used  to  express  negative  ideas  in 
contrast  with  positive  ones ;  as  — 

You  must  not  play'  now;    you  must  worJc^. 
It  is  the  time  to  work^,  not  to  be  idle'. 

Emphatic  words,  phrases  and  sentences  usually  receive 
the  falling  inflection. 

IliliTJSTRATION. 

"  I  do  not  rise  to  waste  the  night  in  words'^ ; 
Let  that  plebeian  talk"" ;  't  is  not  my  trade"" ; 
But  here  I  stand  for  right^ — let  him  show  proof — for  Roman  right^." 

EXCLAMATIONS. 

An  Exclamation  is  an  expression  of  sudden  or  strong 
emotion. 


10  THE   CRANE   FOURTH   READER. 

HiliTJSTRATIONS. 

"  Thou  slave"^ !     Thou  wretch^  !     Thou  coward^ !  " 

"  O  thou  that  rollest  above,  round  as  the  shield  of  my  fathers!  Whence 
are  thy  beams,  O  Sun,  thy  everlasting  light^  ?  " 

"To  arms!  they  come!  the  Greek!  the  Greek!" 

"  Strike  —  till  the  last  armed  foe  expires, 
Strike  —  for  your  altars  and  your  fires, 
Strike  —  for  the  green  graves  of  your  sires, 
God,  and  your  native  land." 

"  Woe  unto  you,  Pharisees !    hypocrites !  " 
ARTICULATION. 

Articulation  is  the  correct  utterance  of  the  elementary 
sounds  of  a  language.  There  can  be  no  good  reading 
without  a  clear,  distinct  articulation.  Nothing  lends  a 
greater  charm  to  reading  or  speaking  than  good  articula- 
tion. 

A  Vowel  sound  is  a  sound  made  with  the  organs  of 
speech  open;  as,  a,  e,  etc. 

A  Consonant  sound  is  a  sound  made  with  the  organs 
of  speech  partially  closed;  as,  b,  d,  etc. 

FORMS  OF  VOICE. 

Voice  is  produced  by  the  action  of  the  breath  on  the 
vocal  cords. 

Form  of  voice  refers  to  the  manner  in  which  the  sound 
is  emitted  from  the  organs  of  speech.  There  are  three 
forms  of  voice,  namely:  Effusive,  Expulsive,  and  Ex- 
plosive. 

In  the  Effusive  form  the  sound  is  sent  forth  from  the 
vocal  organs  in  a  gentle,  tranquil  manner ;    as  — 


THE    CRANE    FOURTH    READER.  11 

"  Slowly  and  sadly  we  laid  him  down, 
From  the  field  of  his  fame,  fresh  and  gory; 
We  carved  not  a  line,  we  raised  not  a  stone, 
But  we  left  him  alone  with  his  glory." 

"  Father,  Thy  hand 
Hath  reared  these  venerable  columns;    Thou 
Didst  weave  this  verdant  roof." 

The  Expulsive  form  of  the  voice  is  the  forcible  and 
abrupt  expulsion  of  the  sound  from  the  organs  of  speech ; 
as  — 

"  Paul  Revere  was  a  rider  bold  — 
Well  has  his  valorous  deed  been  told; 
Sheridan's  ride  was  a  glorious  one  — 
Often  it  has  been  dwelt  upon: 

But  why  should  men  do  all  the  deeds 
On  which  the  love  of  a  patriot  feeds? 
Hearken  to  me,  while  I  reveal 
The  dashing  ride  of  Jennie  McNeal." 

In  the  Explosive  form,  the  voice  is  emitted  from  the 
vocal  organs  very  abruptly. 

When  persons  are  very  much  excited,  as  in  joy,  anger, 
rage,  scorn,  terror,  alarm,  or  courage,  the  explosive  form 
of  the  voice  is  used. 

EXAMPIiES. 

"Joy,  joy!   shout  aloud  for  joy!  " 

"0  death,  where  is  thy  sting! 
O  grave,  where  is  thy  victory!  " 

"Go^,  ring  the  bells'",  and  fire  the  guns^, 

And  fling  the  starry  banner  ouf"; 
Shout'  '  Freedom !  '  till  your  lisping  ones 

Give  back  their  cradle-shout; 
Let  boasted  eloquence  declaim 
Of  honor,  liberty,  and  fame; 


12  THE    CRANE    FOURTH    READER. 

Still  let  the  poet's  strain  be  heard, 
With  '  glory '  for  each  second  word, 
And  everything  with  breath  agree 
To  praise  'our  glorious  liberty'  !" 

PITCH. 

Pitch  is  the  elevation  or  depression  of  the  voice.    There 
are  three  kinds  of  pitch,  namely :  Low,  Middle,  and  High. 

In  low  pitch  the  key  is  the  same  as  that  used  in  ex- 
pressing sublime  and  mournful  thought. 

EXAMPLE.  , 

Slow  Movement,  Effusive  Form. 

"  The  curfew  tolls  the  knell  of  parting  day ; 
The  lowing  herds  wind  slowly  o'er  the  lea; 
The  plowman  homeward  plods  his  weary  way, 
And  leaves  the  world  to  darkness  and  to  me." 

In  middle  pitch  the  key  is  the  same  as  that  used  in 
common  conversation. 

EXAMPIiE. 

Slow  Movement,  Effusive  Form. 

"Only  a  newsboy,  under  the  light 

Of  the  lamp-post,  plying  his  trade  in  vain; 
Men  are  too  busy  to  stop  to-night, 

Hurrying  home  through  the  sleet  and  rain. 
Never  since  dark  a  paper  sold: 

Where  shall  he  sleep,  or  how  be  fed? 
He  thinks,  as  he  shivers  there  in  the  cold. 

While  happy  children  are  safe  abed." 

In  high  pitch  the  key  is  the  same  as  that  used  in  ex- 
pressing animated  thought. 


THE    CRANE   FOURTH   READER.  13 

EXAMPIiE. 

Rapid   Movement,   Expulsive   Form. 
"Voyager  upon  life's  sea. 
To  yourself  be  truej 
And  where'er  your  lot  may  be, 

Paddle  your  own  canoe. 
Never,  though  the  winds  may  rave, 

Falter  nor  look  back, 
But  upon  the  darkest  wave 
Leave   a   shining   track." 

A  rhetorical  pause  is  a  suspension  of  the  voice  to 
mark  a  change  in  the  thought,  or  to  bring  out  the  thought 
of  the  sentence  more  clearly. 

rLIiXTSTRATIONS. 

"Joy  and  sorrow  |  move  him  not." 

"No  people  |  can  claim  him.     No  country  |   can  appropriate  him." 

"  Solomon  |  son  of  David  |  was  king  of  Israel." 

FORCE. 

Force  is  energy  used  in  speaking.  There  are  four 
kinds  of  force:  Subdued,  Moderate,  Energetic,  and  Sus- 
tained. 

Subdued  force  is  the  energy  that  extends  from  the 
lowest  pure  tone  to  that  of  common  conversation. 

EXAMPLE. 

Low  Pitch,  Effusive  Form. 
"  But  where  are  the  young  and  lovely  ?     Gone ! 
Where  are  the  brows  with  the  red  rose  crowned. 
And  the  floating  forms  with  the  bright  zone  bound. 
And  the  waving  locks  and  flying  feet 
That  still  should  be  where  the  mirthful  meet? 
They  are  gone,  they  are  parted  all! 
Alas,  the  forsaken  hall!  " 


14  THE    CRANE    FOURTH   READER. 

Moderate  force  is  the  energy  used  in  common  con- 
versation. 

EXAMPLE. 

Middle  Pitch,  Explosive  Form. 
"You've  set  me  to  talking,  sir;    I'm  sorry; 
It  makes  me  wild  to  think  of  the  change! 
What  do  you  care  for  a  beggar's  story? 
Is  it  amusing?    you  find  it  strange? 
I  had  a  mother  so  proud  of  me! 

'T  was  well  she  died  before. —  Do  you  know 
If  the  happy  spirits  in  heaven  can  see 

The  ruin  and  wretchedness  here  below  ?  " 

Energetic   force  is    used   in    animated    conversation. 
This  is  the  force  used  to  express  joy  or  happiness. 

EXAMPLE. 

High  Pitch,  Expulsive  Form. 

"And  look  at  the  broad-faced  sun,  how  he  smiles 
On  the  dewy  earth  that  smiles  on  his  ray, 
On  the  leaping  waters  and  gay  young  isles; 
Ay,  look,  and  he  '11  smile  thy  gloom  away.'* 

Sustained  force  is  the  energy  used  in  calling,  and  in 
giving  military  commands. 

EXAMPLE :    CALLING. 

High  Pitch,  Expulsive  Form. 

"  Rejoice,  ye  men  of  Angers !     King  your  bells : 
King  John,  your  king  and  England's,  doth  approach. 
Open  your  gates,  and  give  the  victors  way!" 

COMMANDrN-Q. 

Very  High  Pitch,  Expulsive  Form. 

"  Forward,   the  Light  Brigade, 
Charge  for  the  guns!  " 


THE    CRANE    FOURTH    READER.  15 

PURE  TONE. 

Normal  pure  tone  is  clear  and  pleasing.  Its  resonance 
is  in  the  head  cavities  above  the  upper  part  of  the  mouth. 

Avoid  qualities  of  tone  which  seem  to  proceed  — 

1.  From  the  throat  —  ^  *  huskiness. ' ' 

2.  From  the  front  nasal  cavities  —  ' '  twang. ' ' 

3.  From  the  front  of  the  mouth,  just  back  of  the  teeth  — 
**  oral  "  tone. 

Normal  pure  tone  should  be  the  tone  of  ordinary  con- 
versation and  reading.  In  it  we  express  didactic  thought, 
joy,  mild  pathos,  etc. 

Pure  tone  is  best  exemplified  in  the  voices  of  healthy, 
happy  children.  In  adults,  purity  is  often  impaired 
through  carelessness,  indifference,  or  disease. 

In  nature  it  occurs  in  the  rippling  of  a  brook,  in  the 
song  of  birds,  and  in  the  laughter  of  children. 

Pure  tone  is  the  tone  to  be  cultivated  in  the  class-room. 
By  persistent  effort  and  continued  culture  it  may  be  pre- 
served throughout  life. 

SUGGESTIOIS^S  FOR  BUSY- WORK. 

The  following  exercises  are  suggested  for  seat-work 
related  to  reading  in  the  third  and  fourth  grades: 

1.  Let  the  pupils  write  lists  of  words  derived  from  the 
same  root,  as,  call,  called,  calling,  caller.  These  may  be 
used  in  sentences. 

2.  Place  the  new  words  in  each  day's  lesson  on  the  black- 
board, as  might,  lack,  said,  and  let  the  children  write  all 
the  words  they  know  that  rhyme  with  them. 


16  THE    CRANE    FOUKTII    READER. 

3.  Let  the  children  copy  certain  paragraphs  from  the 
reading  lesson  and  underline  all  names  of  objects,  all 
words  showing  action,  or  all  words  telling  kind  or  quality. 

4.  Write  on  the  blackboard,  sentences  taken  from  the 
reading  lesson.  Underline  certain  words,  and  require 
pupils  to  substitute  words  of  like  meaning. 

5.  Let  the  pupils  build  words  out  of  the  letters  in  one 
of  the  new  words,  as  Longfellow,—  on,  owl,  low,  gone,  fell, 
now,  etc. 

6.  Place  on  the  blackboard,  questions  that  may  be  an- 
swered from  the  assigned  reading  lesson.  Require  an- 
swers written  in  complete  statements. 

7.  Ask  the  pupils  to  select  all  nouns  in  the  reading 
lesson  and  use  with  each  an  appropriate  adjective  which 
will  describe  it ;  as,  "  Coal  is  hard,''  ^^  Stones  are  heavy,'' 
"Water  is  clear,"  etc. 

8.  Place  on  the  blackboard,  lists  of  words  needed  in  the 
language,  reading,  or  general  lessons,  and  require  the  class 
to  use  them  in  sentences.  These  sentences  should  mean 
something.  Not— "I  see  a  shell,"  but,  ''The  shell  was 
found  in  the  sea,"  "The  shell  is  smooth  and  bright," 
"The  oyster's  home  is  a  shell." 

9.  The  most  beautiful  thoughts  in  the  day's  reading 
lesson  may  be  copied  by  pupils  and  memorized.  These 
selections  may  be  profitably  used  in  the  rhetorical  exer- 
cises. 


THE    CRANE   FOURTH   READER.  17 

PHONIC   CHART. 

ma'eron,  marks  long  vowels. 

bar,  marks  long-short  or  unaccented  long  vowels. 

breve,  marks  short  vowels. 

ca^ret,  marks  sounds  of  a,  e,  and  o  before  r. 

di  er^e  sis  or  "two  dots." 

sem  I  di  er'e  sis  or  "one  dot." 

t'irde,  marks  vowels  modified  by  r. 

ge  diria,  denotes  that  c  has  the  sound  of  s. 


a 

ate 

e 

eat 

1 

ige 

a 

sen^ate 

e 

event' 

i 

ide'a 

a 

at 

e 

end 

i 

it 

a 

air 

e 

Mk 

i 

sir 

a 

are 

e 

earn 

"i 

piqi^e 

a 

ask 

e 

eight 

y 

my 

a 

m 

oo 

moon 

y 

hy  e'na 

^ 

wa§ 

d6 

gdbd 

f 

po'ny 

a= 

e  any 

0 

old 

ti 

u§e 

oi 

on 

6 

obe?/" 

u 

u  nite' 

oy 

toy 

0 

oM 

ii 

us 

ou 

out 

Q 

do 

U 

rule 

ow 

owl 

Q 

coifM 

u 

put 

ew= 

=  u     pew 

6 

dove 

u 

urn 

ew= 

=oo  chew 

6 

or 

' 

0 

coror 

—2 


18 


THE   CRAKE   FOURTH   READER. 


I.I  K  K 

VOWKIiS. 

a=e 

ate 

eight 

a  =  e 

air 

heir 

a  =  6 

an 

or 

a=6 

wa§ 

od6^ 

a=e 

any 

end 

e  i  6 

u 

earn 

sir 

€6r( 

iy 

iQe 

my 

iy 

It 

myth 

i  =  e 

• 

piqwe 

peek 

6o  =  g 

=  U 

moon 

do 

rule 

d6=o 

=v 

gdbd 

eoiild 

put 

6  =  u 

dove 

lis 

ou=ow 
oi=oy 

ee=e 

urn 


CONSONANTS. 


€  =  k 

eat 

th 

think 

qu=kw 

quit 

g  =  s 

i(?e 

wh=h 

whQ 

r 

rat 

f 

fan 

b 

boy 

r 

are 

h 

hat 

c  =  z 

dig  cern' 

§  =  z 

a§ 

k 

kite 

d 

dog 

s  =  zh 

trea§'ure 

P 

pan 

S 

get. 

V 

vine 

ph=f 

"phone'' 

k 

gem 

w 

win 

q=k 

piqwe 

gh=f 

eoMgh 

x=z 

Xe'nia 

s 

sat 

J 

jam 

X  =  gz 

ex  aet' 

s  =  sh 

sugar 

1 

let 

y 

yet 

t 

tin      • 

m 

man 

z 

zone 

x=ks 

ax 

n 

not 

ng 

sing 

ch 

chat 

n 

ink 

th 

the 

Qh  =  sh 

ghai§e 

n=ny 

ean  on 

wh  =  hw  when 

€h  =  k 

eAo^rus 

ph=v 

Ste'phen 

z  =  zh 

az'ure 

sh 

she 

THE    CKAKE    FOURTH   READER.  19 

SUGGESTIONS. 


To  THE  Pupil. 

1.  Stand  or  sit  erect  and  with  grace. 

2.  Inhale  through  the  nostrils  and  economize  breath 
when  using  the  voice. 

3.  Cultivate  pure  tone. 

4.  Cultivate  pure  articulation. 

5.  Own  and  use  a  dictionary ;  study  the  words  in  each 
new  lesson. 

6.  Know  the  thought  in  a  passage  before  you  attempt 
to  read  it  aloud. 

To  THE  Teacher. 

1.  Assign  short  lessons  —  a  few  paragraphs  instead  of 
pages. 

2.  Select  lessons  for  assignment  from  different  parts  of 
the  book.  Attempting  to  ''  read  through  ''  a  fourth  or 
fifth  reader  is  not  an  inspiring  task. 

3.  Pupils  should  use  a  dictionary  in  the  preparation  of 
each  lesson. 

4.  Unless  the  purpose  of  the  exercise  is  sight-reading, 
it  is  helpful  to  have  a  pupil  tell  the  thought  in  a  passage 
before  reading  it  aloud. 

5.  Teach  pupils  — 

To  study  the  words  in  a  selection ; 
To  study  the  thoughts  expressed ; 
To  control  the  breath ; 
To  use  pure  tone  and  clear  articulation; 
To  express  thought  in  a  graceful  and  natural  man- 
ner. 


THE  CEANE  FOUETH  EEADEE. 


LESSON  I. 


for  sak^en  moss'f  erl^er 

pave^ment  mar^bkg  -       prun^mg 

tot^ter§  tgm6  carved 

THE    LAST    LEAF. 

Oliver  Wendell  Holmbs  (1 809-1894),  was  one  of  the  most  witty  and 
brilliant  writers  of  the  nineteenth  century.  He  was  a  doctor  of  medicine, 
a  college  professor,  an  essayist,  a  novelist,  and  a  poet.  He  graduated  from 
Harvard  College  in  1829.  Among  his  essays  are  The  Breakfast  Series.  His 
best  novels  are  Elsie  Venner  and  The  Guardian  Angel.  Many  of  his  poems 
were  written  for  special  occasions,  especially  class  reunions  in  college.  The 
Boys  is  a  good  example  of  this  class.    His  home  was  in  Boston. 

1.  I  saw  him  once  before 
As  he  passed  by  the  door, 

And  again 
The  pavement  stones  resound, 
As  he  totters  o'er  the  ground 

With  his  cane. 

2.  They  say  that  in  his  prime. 
Ere  the  pruning-knife  of  Time 

Cut  him  down, 
Not  a  better  man  was  found 
By  the  crier  on  his  round 
Through  the  town. 

(21) 


22  THE    CRANE    FOURTH    READER. 

3.  But  now  he  walks  the  streets, 
And  he  looks  at  all  he  meets 

Sad  and  wan, 
And  he  shakes  his  feeble  head. 
That  it  seems  as  if  he  said, 

''  They  are  gone." 

4.  The  mossy  marbles  rest 

On  the  lips  that  he  has  prest 

In  their  bloom. 
And  the  names  he  loved  to  hear 
Have  been  carved  for  many  a  year 
On  the  tomb. 

5.  My  grandmamma  has  said  — 
Poor  old  lady,  she  is  dead. 

Long  ago  — 
That  he  had  a  Eoman  nose. 
And  his  cheek  was  like  a  rose 

In  the  snow. 

6.  But  now  his  nose  is  thin, 
And  it  rests  upon  his  chin 

Like  a  staff. 
And  a  crook  is  in  his  back 
And  a  melancholy  crack 

In  his  laugh. 

7.  I  know  it  is  a  sin 

For  me  to  sit  and  grin 
At  him  here; 


THE   CEANE   FOUKTH   READER.  23 

But  the  old  three-cornered  hat, 
And  the  breeches,  and  all  that. 
Are  so  queer! 

8.  And  if  I  should  live  to  be 
The  last  leaf  upon  the  tree 

In  the  spring, 
Let  them  smile  as  I  do  now. 
At  the  old  forsaken  bough 
Where  I  cling. 

Oliver  Wendell  Holmes. 
What  is  meant  by  "  the  crier  "  ? 
What  is  "  the  pruning-knife  of  Time  "  ? 


The  leaf-tongues  of  the  forest,  and  the  flow'r-lips  of  the  sod  — 
The  happy  birds  that  hymn  their  raptures  in  the  ear  of  God  — 
The  summer  wind  that  bringeth  music  over  land  and  sea. 
Have  each  a  voice  that  singeth  this  sweet  song  of  songs  to  me — 
This  world  is  full  of  beauty,  as  other  worlds  above; 
And,  if  we  did  our  duty,  it  might  be  full  of  love. 


24 


THE    CRANE    FOURTH   READER. 


pe'o  ny 
pon'der  oils 
person  a  h\e 


LESSON  11. 

por^tion 
mag^is  trates 
qmn^talg 


tank^ard 
bu€  €a  neerg' 
re  gep^ta  ele 


Nathaniel  Hawthorne  (1804-1864)  lived 
in  New  England  —  first  at  Salem,  Massachu- 
setts, then  at  Concord.  He  served  as  consul  at 
Liverpool  from  1853  to  1857.  He  spent  the  next 
year  in  Italy.  He  was  of  a  sad,  unhappy  dis- 
position, but  he  had  great  power  as  a  writer. 
He  wrote  two  books  for  children,  Tanglewood 
Tales  and  The  Wonder  Book.  He  wrote  many 
tales  that  are  charming  in  form  and  purpose. 
His  Scarlet  Letter  and  The  Marble  Faun  are  his 
most  famous  romances. 


NATHANIEL   HAWTHORNE, 


THE    PINE-TREE   SHILLING. 
PART  I. 

1.  The  Captain  John  Hull  aforesaid  was  the  mintmaster 
of  Massachusetts,  and  coined  all  the  money  that  was 
made  there.  This  was  a  new  line  of  business ;  for,  in  the 
earlier  days  of  the  colony,  the  coinage  consisted  of  gold 
and  silver  money  of  England,  Portugal,  and  Spain.  These 
coins  being  scarce,  the  people  were  often  forced  to  barter 
their  commodities  instead  of  selling  them. 

2.  For  instance,  if  a  man  wanted  to  buy  a  coat,  he  per- 
haps exchanged  a  bear-skin  for  it.  If  he  wished  for  a 
barrel  of  molasses,  he  might  purchase  it  with  a  pile  of  pine 
boards.  Musket  bullets  were  used  instead  of  farthings. 
The  Indians  had  a  sort  of  money,  called  wampum,  which 
was  made  of  clam-shells,  and  this  strange  specie  was  like- 


THE    CKANE    FOURTH    EEADER.  25 

wise  taken  in  payment  of  debts  by  the  English  settlers. 
Bank  bills  had  never  been  heard  of.  There  was  not  money 
enough  of  any  kind,  in  many  parts  of  the  country,  to  pay 
the  salaries  of  the  ministers ;  so  that  sometimes  they  had 
to  take  quintals  of  fish,  bushels  of  corn,  or  cords  of  wood, 
instead  of  silver  or  gold= 

3.  As  the  people  grew  more  numerous  and  their  trade 
one  with  another  increased,  the  want  of  current  money 
was  still  more  sensibly  felt.  To  supply  the  demand,  the 
general  court  passed  a  law  for  establishing  a  coinage  of 
shillings,  sixpences,  and  threepences.  Captain  John  Hull 
was  appointed  to  manufacture  this  money,  and  was  to  have 
about  one  shilling  out  of  every  twenty  to  pay  him  for  the 
trouble  of  making  them. 

4.  Hereupon  all  the  old  silver  in  the  colony  was  handed 
over  to  Captain  John  Hull.  The  battered  silver  cans  and 
tankards,  I  suppose,  and  siiver  buckles,  and  broken  spoons, 
and  silver  buttons  off  worn-out  coats,  and  silver  hilts  of 
swords  that  had  figured  at  courts  —  all  such  curious  old 
articles  were  doubtless  thrown  into  the  melting-pot  to- 
gether. But  by  far  the  greater  part  of  the  silver  consisted 
of  bullion  from  the  mines  of  South  America,  which  the 
English  buccaneers — who  were  little  better  than  pirates — 
had  taken  from  the  Spaniards,  and  brought  to  Massachu- 
setts. 

5.  All  this  old  and  new  silver  being  melted  down  and 
coined,  the  result  was  an  immense  amount  of  splendid 
shillings,  sixpences,  and  threepences.  Each  had  the  date 
of  1652  on  the  one  side,  and  the  figure  of  a  pine  tree  on 
the  other.  Hence  they  were  called  pine-tree  shillings,  and 
for  every  twenty  shillings  that  he  coined,  you  will  remem- 


26  THE    CEANE   FOUKTH   KEADEK. 

ber,  Captain  John  Hull  put  one  shilling  into  his  own  pocket. 
The  magistrates  soon  began  to  suspect  that  the  mintmaster 
would  have  the  best  of  the  bargain.  They  offered  him  a 
large  sum  of  money  if  he  would  give  up  that  twentieth 
shilling  which  he  was  continually  dropping  into  his  own 
pocket.  But  Captain  Hull  declared  himself  perfectly  sat- 
isfied with  the  shilling,  and  well  he  might  be,  for  so  dili- 
gently did  he  labor  that,  in  a  few  years,  his  pockets,  his 
money-bags,  and  his  strong-box  were  overflowing  with 
pine-tree  shillings. 

6.  This  was  probably  the  case  when  he  came  into  posses- 
sion of  Grandfather's  chair;  and,  as  he  had  worked  so 
hard  at  the  mint,  it  was  certainly  proper  that  he  should 
have  a  comfortable  chair  to  rest  himself  in.  When  the 
mintmaster  had  grown  very  rich,  a  young  man,  Samuel 
Sewell  by  name,  came  a-courting  to  his  only  daughter. 
His  daughter  —  whose  name  I  do  not  know,  but  we  will 
call  her  Betsy  —  was  a  fine,  hearty  damsel,  by  no  means  so 
slender  as  some  young  ladies  of  our  own  days.  On  the  con- 
trary, haying  always  fed  heartily  on  pumpkin  pies,  dough- 
nuts, Indian  pudding,  and  other  Puritan  dainties,  she  was 
as  round  and  plump  as  a  pudding  herself.  With  this 
round,  rosy  Miss  Betsy  did  Samuel  Sewell  fall  in  love. 
As  he  was  a  young  man  of  good  character,  industrious  in 
his  business  and  a  member  of  the  church,  the  mintmaster 
very  readily  gave  his  consent.  "  Yes,  you  may  take  her," 
said  he  in  his  rough  way,  ''  and  you  will  find  her  a  heavy 
burden  enough."  On  the  wedding  day,  we  may  suppose 
honest  John  Hull  dressed  himself  in  a  plum-colored  coat, 
all  the  buttons  of  which  were  made  of  pine-tree  shillings. 
The  buttons  of  his  waistcoat  were  sixpences ;  and  the  knees 


THE    CRANE    FOUETH    EEADEE.  27 

of  his  small-clotlies  were  buttoned  with  silver  threepences. 
Thus  attired,  he  sat  with  great  dignity  in  Grandfather's 
chair;  and,  being  a  portly  old  gentleman,  he  completely 
filled  it  from  elbow  to  elbow. 


LESSOE"   III. 
THE   PINE-TREE   SHILLING. 

PART  II. 

1.  On  the  opposite  side  of  the  room,  between  her  brides- 
maids, sat  Miss  Betsy.  She  was  blushing  with  all  her 
might,  and  looked  like  a  full-blown  peony,  or  a  great  red 
apple.  There,  too,  was  the  bridegroom,  dressed  in  a  fine 
purple  coat  and  gold  lace  waistcoat,  with  as  much  other 
finery  as  the  Puritan  laws  and  customs  would  allow  him  to 
put  on.  His  hair  was  cropped  close  to  his  head,  because 
Governor  Endicott  had  forbidden  any  man  to  wear  it  below 
the  ears.  But  he  was  a  very  personable  young  man ;  and 
so  thought  the  bridesmaids  and  Miss  Betsy  herself. 

2.  The  mintmaster  was  also  pleased  with  his  new  son-in- 
law  :  especially  as  he  had  courted  Miss  Betsy  out  of  pure 
love,  and  had  said  nothing  at  all  about  her  portion.  So, 
when  the  marriage  ceremony  was  over.  Captain  Hull  whis- 
pered a  word  to  two  of  his  men  servants,  who  immediately 
went  out,  and  soon  returned,  lugging  in  a  large  pair  of 
scales.  They  were  such  a  pair  as  wholesale  merchants  use 
for  weighing  bulky  commodities ;  and  quite  a  bulky  com- 
modity was  now  to  be  weighed  on  them. 

3.  ^^ Daughter  Betsy,"  said  the  mintmaster,  "get  into 
one  side  of  these  scales." 

4.  Miss  Betsy  —  or  Mrs.  Sewell,  as  we  must  now  call 


28  THE   CKANE   FOURTH   EEADER. 

her  —  did  as  she  was  bid,  like  a  dutiful  child,  without  any 
question  of  the  why  and  wherefore.  But  what  her  father 
could  mean,  unless  to  make  her  husband  pay  for  her  by  the 
pound  (in  which  case  she  would  have  been  a  dear  bargain), 
she  had  not  the  least  idea. 

5.  "And  now,"  said  Honest  John  Hull  to  the  servants, 
"  bring  that  box  hither." 

6.  The  box  to  which  the  mintmaster  pointed  was  a 
huge,  square,  iron-bound,  oaken  chest ;  it  was  big  enough, 
my  children,  for  all  four  of  you  to  play  at  hide-and-seek  in. 
The  servants  tugged  with  might  and  main,  but  could  not 
lift  this  receptable,  and  were  finally  obliged  to  drag  it 
across  the  floor.  Captain  Hull  then  took  a  key  from  his 
girdle,  unlocked  the  chest  and  lifted  its  ponderous  lid. 
Behold !  it  was  full  to  the  brim  of  bright  pine-tree  shillings, 
fresh  from  the  mint ;  and  Samuel  began  to  think  his  father- 
in-law  had  got  possession  of  all  the  money  in  the  Massachu- 
setts treasury.  But  it  was  only  the  mintmaster's  honest 
share  of  the  coinage. 

7.  Then  the  servants,  at  Captain  Hull's  command,  heaped 
double-handfuls  of  shillings  into  one  side  of  the  scales, 
while  Betsy  remained  in  the  other.  Jingle,  jingle  went  the 
shillings,  as  handful  after  handful  were  thrown  in,  till, 
plump  and  ponderous  as  she  was,  they  fairly  weighed  the 
young  lady  from  the  floor. 

8.  "There,  son  Sewell,"  cried  the  honest  mintmaster, 
resuming  his  seat  in  Grandfather's  chair,  "  take  these  shil- 
lings for  my  daughter's  portion,  use  her  kindly,  and  thank 
heaven  for  her.     It  is  not  every  wife  that  is  worth  her 

weight  in  silver  !  '^  Nathaniel  Hawthorne. 

What  is  a  mint?         Describe  the  coins  made  by  the  mintmaster. 


THE    CEANE   FOUflTH   KEADER.  29 


LESSOI^  IV. 


rob'mg§  spler/dor  (der)  wlnd^mg 

jMg'ment  eool'ing  ban'ish 

THE   BLUE  AND  THE   GRAY. 

1.  By  the  flow  of  the  inland  river, 

Whence  the  fleets  of  iron  have  fled, 
Where  the  blades  of  the  grave-grass  quiver. 
Asleep  are  the  ranks  of  the  dead; 
Under  the  sod  and  the  dew, 

Waiting  the  judgment  day; 
Under  the  one,  the  Blue, 
Under  the  other,  the  Gray. 

2.  These  in  the  robings  of  glory. 

Those  in  the  gloom  of  defeat : 
All  with  the  battle-blood  gory. 
In  the  dusk  of  eternity  meet ; 
Under  the  sod  and  the  dew. 

Waiting  the  judgment  day; 
Under  the  laurel,  the  Blue, 
Under  the  willow,  the  Gray. 

3.  From  the  silence  of  sorrowful  hours 

The  desolate  mourners  go. 
Lovingly  laden  with  flowers. 
Alike  for  the  friend  and  the  foe; 
Under  the  sod  and  the  dew. 
Waiting  the  judgment  day; 


30  THE   CRAKE   FOTTETH  READER. 

Under  the  roses,  the  Blue, 
Under  the  lilies,  the  Gray. 

4.  So,  with  an  equal  splendor, 

The  morning  sun-rays  fall. 
With  a  touch  impartially  tender. 
On  the  blossoms  blooming  for  all; 
Under  the  sod  and  the  dew. 

Waiting  the  judgment  day; 
Broidered  with  gold,  the  Blue, 
Mellowed  with  gold,  the  Gray. 

5.  So,  when  the  Summer  calleth. 
On  forest  and  field  of  grain. 
With  an  equal  murmur  f  alleth 

The  cooling  drip  of  the  rain; 
Under  the  sod  and  the  dew. 

Waiting  the  judgment  day; 
Wet  with  the  rain,  the  Blue, 

Wet  with  the  rain,  the  Gray. 

6.  Sadly,  but  not  with  upbraiding. 

The  generous  deed  was  done ; 
In  the  storm  of  years  that  are  fading. 
No  braver  battle  was  won ; 
Under  the  sod  and  the  dew, 

Waiting  the  judgment  day; 
Under  the  blossoms,  the  Blue, 
Under  the  garlands,  the  Gray. 

7.  No  more  shall  the  war-cry  sever. 

Or  the  winding  rivers  be  red; 


THE   CKANE   FOURTH   HEADER.  81 

They  banish  our  anger  forever, 
When  they  laurel  the  graves  of  our  dead ; 
Under  the  sod  and  the  dew, 

Waiting  the  judgment  day; 
Love  and  tears  for  the  Blue, 
Tears  and  love  for  the  Gray. 

Francis  Miles  Finch. 
To  what  does  "  The  Blue  and  the  Gray  "  allude  ? 


LESSON  V. 


er^mme  A«*^biirn  hem^lock 

Chan^ti  eleer  grad^u  al  gloam^mg 

€ar  ra^ra  pa^tience  whis^pered 

(pa^shens) 

THE   FIRST  SNOWFALL. 

1.  The  snow  had  begun  in  the  gloaming, 

And  busily  all  the  night 
Had  been  heaping  field  and  highway 
With  a  silence  deep  and  white. 

2.  Every  pine  and  fir  and  hemlock 

Wore  ermine  too  dear  for  an  earl, 
And  the  poorest  twig  on  the  elm  tree 
Was  ridged  inch-deep  with  pearl. 

3.  From  sheds  new-roofed  with  Carrara 

Came  Chanticleer's  mufiied  crow. 
The  stiff  rails  were  softened  to  swan's-down, 
And  still  fluttered  down  the  snow. 


32  THE   CBANE   FOUBTH   BEADEK. 

4.  I  stood  and  watched  by  tlie  window 

The  noiseless  work  of  the  sky, 
And  the  sudden  flurries  of  snowbirds, 
Like  brown  leaves  whirling  by. 

5.  I  thought  of  a  mound  in  sweet  Auburn 

"Where  a  little  headstone  stood; 
How  the  flakes  were  folding  it  gently, 
As  did  robins  the  babes  in  the  wood. 

6.  Up  spoke  our  own  little  Mabel, 

Saying,  "Father,  who  makes  it  snow?" 
And  I  told  of  the  good  All-Father 
Who  cares  for  us  here  below. 

7.  Again  I  looked  at  the  snowfall. 

And  thought  of  the  leaden  sky 
That  arched  o'er  our  first  great  sorrow, 
When  that  mound  was  heaped  so  high. 

8.  I  remembered  the  gradual  patience 

That  fell  from  that  cloud  like  snow. 
Flake  by  flake,  healing  and  hiding 
The  scar  of  our  deep-plunged  woe. 

9.  And  again  to  the  child  I  whispered : 

"  The  snow  that  husheth  all. 
Darling,  the  merciful  Father 
Alone  can  make  it  fall!" 

10.   Then,  with  eyes  that  saw  not,  I  kissed  her ; 
And  she,  kissing  back,  could  not  know 


THE    CKANE    FOURTH   READER.  33 

That  my  kiss  was  given  to  lier  sister, 
Folded  close  under  deepening  snow. 

James  Russell  Lowell. 

What  is  meant  by  the  lines: 

"  Every  pine  and  fir  and  hemlock 

Wore  ermine  too  dear  for  an  earl "  ? 
Where  is  Auburn? 
What  is  Carrara? 
Tell  the  story  of  the  "  Babes  in  the  Wood." 


lesso:n"  VI. 

home^iy-  bou  quet'  bliis^ter  mg 

pet^als  (boo  kaO  chir^rupped 

sta^men§  ^n  eoiir'aged  (chir^riipt) 

trilOi  iim  shriv^ekd  ear^di  nal 

ge  ra'ni  iim  gar'nered  Jan^ti  a  r^ 

THOSE   HOMELY  WEEDS. 

1.  If  you  bad  been  a  fairy  or  a  fay,  you  might  have 
heard  the  loud  laughter  that  rippled  down  the  vale.  Per- 
haps it  would  not  have  had  an  altogether  pleasant  sound, 
because  there  was  a  note  of  scorn  in  it  all,  as  if  some  one 
were  making  sport  of  some  one  else.  That  is  just  what  was 
happening.  The  peals  of  laughter  were  coming  from  the 
petals  and  stamens  of  a  clump  of  pretty  wild  flowers  that 
grew  on  the  bank  of  the  brook. 

"Ha!  ha!"  shrilled  the  bluebells.  "What  homely 
things  they  are ! " 

"As  ugly  as  an  old  rail  fence!"  jibed  the  harebells. 


34  THE    CRANE   FOURTH   READER. 

2.  "  I  wonder  what  earthly  use  such  homely  weeds  can 
be,  an^^way,"  jeered  a  beautiful  trillium,  waving  its  pointed 
crimson  petals.  "No  one  ever  admires  them,  and  so  I 
can't  see  why  they  are  made  to  grow." 

"  There  come  the  farmer  and  his  daughter,"  whispered  a 
wild  geranium.  "Let's  listen  to  what  they  have  to  say. 
Hush-sh-sh!" 

"Oh,  what  pretty  flowers,  papa!"  the  little  girl  was 
saying.  "I'm  going  to  gather  some  for  a  bouquet.  Oh, 
see  that  bright  bunch  of  bells!" 

3.  She  plucked  a  flower  here  and  there  until  she  had 
gathered  a  large,  many-colored  bouquet. 

"I  think  wild  flowers  are  so  lovely,"  she  said.  "But 
just  look  at  those  ugly  weeds  over  there  in  the  field!  I 
wonder  why  they  couldn't  be  pretty  flowers  instead  of 
homely  green  weeds.    Are  they  of  any  use,  papal" 

"None  that  I  can  see,  unless  it  is  to  make  us  farmers 
a  lot  of  bother,"  the  man  replied. . 

4.  As  this  talk  went  on,  you  should  have  seen  the  poor 
weeds  drop  their  heads.  They  felt  so  ashamed  that  they 
blushed,  really  and  truly— only  they  blushed  green  in- 
stead of  red  as  boys  and  girls  do.  With  heads  hanging 
down,  they  whispered  among  themselves: 

"  Everybody  hates  us.  It 's  no  use  to  live.  Why  were 
we  made  1 " 

Still,  the  sun  did  not  despise  them,  but  shone  just  as 
brightly  on  them  as  he  did  upon  the  vain  flowers  that  were 
making  sport  of  them.  That  encouraged  the  weeds,  and 
they  lifted  up  their  heads  and  kept  on  growing;  they 
couldn't  help  it,  in  fact,  and  by-and-by  a  cluster  of  dull- 
red  flowers  blossomed  out  on  their  long  stems. 


THE    CRANE   FOURTH   READER. 


35 


5.  "  Oh,  ho !  ho !  ho-o-o-o ! ''  laughed  the  flowers  by  the 
brook-side.  ''What  hateful  flowers  are  growing  on  old 
Weed  Clump!  Look!  look!  Brick-red!  What  a  color 
for  flowers !    Pooh !  pooh ! " 

"  No,  it 's  no  use,"  moaned  the  humble  weeds,  their  heads 
drooping.  "We're  of  no  use.  No  matter  what  we  do, 
no  one  is  pleased.  But  then,  Mother  Nature  made  us  as  we 
are,  and  we  '11  do  the  best  we  can." 

6.  In  this  way  they  took  courage,  and  kept  on  growing 
and  blooming.  By-and-by,  as  August  passed  and  Sep- 
tember came  on,  the  flowers  all  withered,  and  even  their 
stalks  and  leaves  shriveled  up  and  fell  to  the  ground. 
But  the  weeds  stood  upright  in  their  places,  and  as  their 
flowers  faded  and  fell,  they  garnered  many  seeds  in  their 
pods.  The  wind,  try  as  it  would,  could  not  shake  the  seeds 
out  of  their  cases,  for  the  weeds  held  them  fast. 

7.  October  came  and  went,  and  so  did  November  and 
December.  January  came,  cold  and  blustering.  Weed 
Clump  had  lost  all  its  green  leaves,  but  every  stalk  of  the 
family  stood  straight  and  tall,  holding  its  little  bins  of 
seeds  tightly  closed  against  the  winds  and  the  blustering 
snow-storms.  Listen  to  this  chirping  talk  among  the 
Feathered  Folk : 

"  0-o-oh !  just  look  at  this  nice  clump  of  weeds !  And 
every  pod  is  as  full  of  seeds  as  it  can  be.  Now  we  shall 
have  a  dinner  fit  for  kings  and  queens." 

8.  Who  was  it  that  was  talking  so  cheerily?  It  was  one 
of  the  snowbirds,  as  he  darted  into  the  midst  of  Weed 
Clump,  followed  by  his  flock  of  feathered  companions. 

"Aren't  these  fine  seeds  1    So  rich  and  ripe ! "  chirrupped 


36  THE   CRANE   FOURTH   READER. 

a  tree  sparrow,  who  was  perclied  on  a  slender,  swaying 
stem. 

"Yes,  indeed,"  replied  tlie  merry  black-capped  chicka- 
dee. "  On  a  cold,  wintry  day  like  this  such  seeds  save  the 
lives  of  us  birds.  "We  couldn't  live  the  winter  through 
without  them.'^ 

"  Eight  you  are,  right  you  are,  cousin,''  cried  the  tufted 
titmouse,  helping  himself  to, a  well-filled  pod.  "Ah!  this 
is  a  fine  winter  feast." 

9.  "  Chick-a-dee-dee-dee !  chick !  chick-a-dee-dee-dee ! " 
agreed  the  dainty  black-cap. 

"I  like  these  weed  seeds,  too,"  chimed  the  brilliant  car- 
dinal. 

"  And  so  do  I,"  declared  the  song  sparrow.  "  The  seeds 
make  me  a  dinner,  and  the  thick  clusters  of  stems,  with 
the  matted  grass  at  their  feet,  protect  me  from  the  winter 
storms.  Do  you  see  my  snug  little  parlor  down  there?  All 
night  long  I  can  sleep  there,  cozy  and  warm,  while  the 
xvdnds  howl  unharming  around  me.    Isn't  it  nice!" 

10.  "  Oh,  what  a  blessing  these  weeds  are  to  us  birds  in 
the  cold  winter  weather ! "  sang  the  merry  titmouse.  "  And 
then  in  the  spring  and  summer  we  eat  up  the  insects  that 
would  destroy  the  grain. and  fruit  and  flowers  and  trees. 
So  the  farmer  couldn't  live  and  the  flowers  couldn't  bloom 
if  it  wasn't  for  the  birds,  and  the  birds  couldn't  live 
through  the  winter  if  it  wasn't  for  the  weeds.  See  1  see  1 
Chick!  chick-a-dee-dee ! "  and  his  ringing  voice  fairly 
echoed  through  the  woods  near  at  hand. 

11.  All  this  unexpected  praise  was  like  sweet  music  in 
the  hungry  ears  of  Weed  Clump,  as  they  nodded  and 


THE    CKANE    FOURTH    READER. 


37 


winked,  and  rattled  their  seed-pods  in  great  glee,  and 
cried  to  one  another  in  the  cheeriest  voices : 

"We're  so  glad!   we're  so  glad!    We're  of  some  ac- 
count, after  all!" 

Leander  S.  Keyser. 
Name  the  flowers  mentioned  in  this  lesson. 
Name  five  other  flowers. 
Tell  the  story  of  the  Homely  Weeds. 
Name  five  so-called  weeds  which  are  useful,  and  tell  their  uses. 


pan  ta  loon§' 
re  piib^li  can 
hab^i  ttide 
tor^toise 
wdt)d^chiick 


LESSON  VII. 

o^ri  ole  pick^er  el 

Hes  per'i  de§  a/ti  §an§ 

ar  ehi  tec'tur  al  bap'ti§m§ 
.    es  chew^ing             .        ho  rf  zon 

(es  chu^ing)  or^ei^es  tra 

THE    BAREFOOT    BOY. 


John  Greenleaf  Whittier  (1807-1892),  the 
Quaker  poet,  was  born  at  Haverhill,  Massachu- 
setts. He  never  went  to  college,  but  had  two 
years  of  schooling  at  the  Haverhill  Academy.  He 
spent  the  most  of  his  life  in  the  State  in  which 
he  was  born.  He  wrote  much  poetry,  and  his 
name  is  beloved  by  all  Americans  as  that  of  a 
true,  gentle,  kindly  man  who  loved  all  mankind. 

1.  Blessings  on  thee,  little  man, 

Barefoot  boy,  with  cheek  of  tan !  j.  g.  whittier. 

With  thy  turned-up  pantaloons, 

And  thy  merry  whistled  tunes ; 

With  thy  red  lips,  redder  still, 
Kissed  by  strawberries  on  the  hill; 


38  THE   CKANE   FOUKTH   READER. 

With  the  sunshine  on  thy  face, 
Through  thy  torn  brim's  jaunty  grace; 
From  my  heart  I  give  thee  joy— 
I  was  once  a  barefoot  boy! 

2.  Prince  thou  art  —  the  grown-up  man 
Only  is  republican. 

Let  the  million-dollared  ride! 
Barefoot,  trudging  at  his  side, 
Thou  hast  more  than  he  can  buy, 
In  the  reach  of  ear  and  eye—  , 
Outward  sunshine,  inward  joy; 
Blessings  on  thee,  barefoot  boy! 

3.  Oh,  for  boyhood's  painless  play, 
Sleep  that  wakes  in  laughing  day. 
Health  that  mocks  the  doctor's  rules. 
Knowledge  never  learned  of  schools, 
Of  the  wild  bee's  morning  chase, 

Of  the  wild  flower's  time  and  place. 
Flight  of  fowl,  and  habitude 
Of  the  tenants  of  the  wood ; 
How  the  tortoise  bears  his  shell, 
How  the  woodchuck  digs  his  cell. 
And  the  ground-mole  sinks  his  well ; 

4.  Plow  the  robin  feeds  her  young, 
How  the  oriole's  nest  is  hung; 
Where  the  whitest  lilies  blow. 
Where  the  freshest  berries  grow. 
Where  the  ground-nut  trails  its  vine. 
Where  the  wood-grape's  clusters  shine ; 


1 


THE    CEANE    FOURTH    EEADER.  39 

Of  the  black  wasp's  cunning  way, 
Mason  of  his  walls  of  clay, 
And  the  architectural  plans 
Of  gray  hornet  artisans! 
For,  eschewing  books  and  tasks. 
Nature  answers  all  he  asks; 
Hand  in  hand  with  her  he  walks, 
Face  to  face  with  her  he  talks, 
Part  and  parcel  of  her  joy— 
Blessings  on  thee,  barefoot  boy! 

5.  Oh,  for  boyhood's  time  of  June, 
Crowding  years  in  one  brief  moon. 
When  all  things  I  heard  or  saw, 
Me,  their  master,  waited  for. 

I  was  rich  in  flowers  and  trees. 
Humming-birds  and  honey-bees; 
For  my  sport  the  squirrel  played. 
Plied  the  snouted  mole  his  spade; 
For  my  taste  the  blackberry  cone 
Purpled  over  hedge  and  stone; 
Laughed  the  brook  for  my  delight. 
Through  the  day  and  through  the  night. 
Whispering  at  the  garden  wall. 
Talked  with  me  from  fall  to  fall. 

6.  Mine  the  sand-rimmed  pickerel  pond. 
Mine  the  walnut  slopes  beyond. 
Mine,  on  bending  orchard  trees. 
Apples  of  Hesperides! 


40  THE   CRANE   FOURTH   READER. 

Still,  as  my  horizon  grew, 
Larger  grew  my  riches,  too; 
All  the  world  I  saw  or  knew 
Seemed  a  complex  Chinese  toy, 
Fashioned  for  a  barefoot  boy ! 

7.  Oh,  for  festal  dainties  spread. 
Like  my  bowl  of  milk  and  bread  — 
Pewter  spoon,  and  bowl  of  wood. 
On  the  door-stone,  gray  and  rude! 
O'er  me,  like  a  regal  tent. 
Cloudy-ribbed  the  sunset  bent. 
Purple-curtained,  fringed  with  gold, 
Looped  in  many  a  wind-swung  fold ; 
While  for  music  came  the  play 

Of  the  pied  frog's  orchestra; 
And,  to  light  the  noisy  choir, 
Lit  the  fly  his  lamp  of  fire. 
I  was  monarch:  pomp  and  joy 
Waited  on  the  barefoot  boy! 

8.  Cheerily,  then,  my  little  man. 
Live  and  laugh  as  boyhood  can! 
Though  the  flinty  slopes  be  hard, 
Stubble-speared  the  new-mown  sward. 
Every  morn  shall  lead  thee  through 
Fresh  baptisms  of  the  dew; 

Every  evening  from  thy  feet 
Shall  the  cool  wind  kiss  the  heat; 

9.  All  too  soon  these  feet  must  hide 
In  the  prison-cells  of  pride. 


THE   CRANE   FOURTH   READER.  41 

Lose  the  freedom  of  the  sod, 
Like  a  colt's,  for  work  be  shod; 
Made  to  tread  the  mills  of  toil, 
Up  and  down  in  ceaseless  moil; 
Happy  if  their  track  be  found 
Never  on  forbidden  ground; 
Happy  if  they  sink  not  in 
Quick  and  dangerous  sands  of  sin. 
Ah!  that  thou  couldst  know  thy  joy. 
Ere  it  passes,  barefoot  boy. 

John  G.  Whittieb. 
What  do  these  lines  mean: 

"  Crowding  years  in  one  brief  moon." 
"  Cloudy-ribbed  the  sunset  bent." 

"  All  too  soon  these  feet  must  hide 
In  the  prison-cells  of  pride." 


LESSON  VIIL 

po'roiis  ge  lat^i  noiis  gir  eu  la^tion 

eom  press^i  ble  mm^er  al  ob  scure^ 

phy-  §f  clan  gl^Q^er  me  .  fi'berg 


(shun) 


SPONGE. 


1.  Sponge  is  a  very  porous  and  compressible  substance 
found  adhering  to  rocks,  shells,  and  other  surfaces.  It  is 
found  in  large  quantities  in  the  Mediterranean  Sea,  among 
the  islands  of  the  Archipelago.  Good  sponges  are  also 
found  in  the  Red  Sea,  on  the  coast  of  Florida,  and  among 
the  Bahama  islands.  Those  from  the  Greek  islands,  how- 
ever, are  considered  most  valuable. 


42  THE    CKANE    FOURTH    READER. 

2.  Formerly,  sponge  was  supposed  to  be  a  vegetable  pro- 
duction, but  it  is  now  classed  among  the  lowest  orders  of 
the  animal  kingdom,  as  it  yields,  when  analyzed,  the  same 
results  as  animal  substances  in  general. 

3.  It  is  traversed  by  innumerable  pores,  the  microscope 
showing  the  whole  network  of  the  sponge  to  be  composed  of 
fine  tubes.  If  examined  while  in  the  water,  currents  may 
be  seen  passing  out  of  the  larger  openings,  having  proba- 
bly entered  through  the  smaller  pores,  thus  giving  rise  to 
an  obscure  motion  or  circulation. 

4.  As  an  animal,  it  lives  on  the  water  and  what  the 
water  holds  in  solution ;  and  hence  it  is  probably  necessary 
that  water  should  be  constantly  circulating  through  it. 

5.  In  some  of  the  islands  of  the  Archipelago  the  inhab- 
itants make  it  a  business  to  obtain  sponges  by  diving, 
having  been  trained  to  it  from  their  infancy.  Other 
methods  are  sometimes  resorted  to,  such  as  spearing  or 
grappling;  but  they  injure  the  sponges,  which  cannot 
easily  be  detached  from  the  surfaces  to  which  they  adhere. 

6.  They  are  placed  in  heaps,  under  piles  of  stones,  which 
press  them  closely  together,  so  that  they  become  hard  and 
flat  when  dry.  The  mineral  substances  are  removed  by 
beating  the  sponge  until  they  are  reduced  to  powder  and 
drop  out  in  washing.  After  this  the  sponge  is  ready  for 
market  and  use.  It  is  a  singular  fact  that,  after  the  im- 
purities have  been  removed,  the  sponge  weighs  more  than 
when  first  taken  from  the  water. 

7.  Sponges  serve  a  great  variety  of  useful  purposes, 
both  in  the  arts  and  medicine,  and  contribute,  in  many 
known  ways,  to  cleanliness  and  comfort.  They  are  of  very 
unequal  value,  the  texture  of  some  being  fine  and  soft, 


THE    CEANE    FOURTH   READER.  43 

while  that  of  others  is  coarse  and  rough.     Smyrna  is  a 
great  market,  or  depot,  for  sponges. 

8.  One  of  the  uses  to  which  sponge  has  been  applied  is 
that  of  making  into  cloth.  The  article  most  used  for  this 
is  that  found  on  the  rocks  of  the  Bahama  islands,  and  the 
coast  of  Florida,  which  is  excellent  in  quality  and  inex- 
haustible in  quantity. 

9.  This  sponge,  when  torn  from  the  rock  to  which  it  ad- 
heres, appears  at  first  as  a  heavy,  black-looking  mass,  with 
a  strong  and  oif ensive  odor.  In  order  to  cleanse  and  purify 
it,  it  is  buried  in  the  earth  for  some  weeks,  at  the  end  of 
which  time  all  the  organic  matter  will  be  decomposed. 

10.  In  this  state  it  is  liable  to  become  hard  and  unfit  for 
the  manufacturing  process.  To  obviate  this,  the  sponge  is 
immersed  in  water  containing  from  ten  to  twenty  per  cent, 
of  glycerine,  and  then  squeezecl  dry,  after  which  it  will  be 
entirely  soft  and  elastic.  It  is  then  cut  into  small  pieces, 
subjected  to  a  carding  process,  and  afterwards  felted. 
Only  certain  qualities  of  sponge  are  capable  of  being  spun 
into  yarn  for  weaving. 

11.  The  felted  sponge  may  be  used  for  hat  bodies,  car- 
pets, etc.  The  sponge  cloth  for  clothing  is  made  in  the 
same  manner  as  "  shoddy."  Sponge  may  be  used  in  textile 
fabrics,  either  with  or  without  the  admixture  of  other 
fibers,  such  as  wool  and  hair.  Sponge  has  of  late  been  con- 
siderably used  as  a  material  for  stuffing  furniture,  mat- 
tresses, cushions,  pillows,  etc.  The  surgeon,  physician, 
chemist,  and  many  others,  find  frequent  and  numerous  uses 
for  this  valuable  article. 


4:4  THE    CEANE    FOURTH   READER. 


LESSON^  IX. 

ker'chM 

ob^sta  ele 

nes'tled 

Ni€/i^6  las 

€owrs'er§ 

danced 

liis'ter 

this^^k 

(danst) 

hiii-'ri  eane 

shut'ter§ 

UTea'ture 

THE   NIGHT   BEFORE   CHRISTMAS. 

'T  WAS  the  night  before  Christmas,  when  all  through  the 

house 
Not  a  creature  was  stirring,  not  even  a  mouse; 
The  stockings  were  hung  by  the  chimney  with  care. 
In  hopes  that  St.  Nicholas  soon  would  be  there; 
The  children  were  nestled  all  snug  in  their  beds. 
While  visions  of  sugar-plums  danced  in  their  heads. 
And  mamma  in  her  kerchief  and  I  in  my  cap. 
Had  just  settled  ourselves  for  a  long  winter's  nap; 
When  out  on  the  lawn  there  rose  such  a  clatter, 
I  sprang  from  my  bed  to  see  what  was  the  matter ; 
Away  to  the  window  I  flew  like  a  flash. 
Tore  open  the  shutters  and  threw  up  the  sash; 
The  moon,  on  the  breast  of  the  new-fallen  snow, 
Gave  a  luster  of  midday  to  objects  below; 
When,  what  to  my  wondering  eyes  should  appear, 
But  a  miniature  sleigh  and  eight  tiny  reindeer, 
With  a  little  old  driver,  so  lively  and  quick, 
I  knew  in  a  moment  it  must  be  St.  Nick. 
More  rapid  than  eagles  his  coursers  they  came, 
And  he  whistled  and  shouted  and  called  them  by  name : 
"  Now,  Dasher !  now,  Dancer !  now,  Prancer  and  Vixen ! 
On,  Comet!  on,  Cupid!  on,  Dunder  and  Blitzen! 


THE    CRANE   FOUETH   KEADER.  45 

To  the  top  of  the  porch,  to  the  top  of  the  wall ! 
Now,  dash  away,  dash  away,  dash  away,  all!" 
As  dry  leaves  that  before  the  hurricane  fly, 
Wlien  they  meet  with  an  obstacle  mount  to  the  sky, 
So,  up  to  the  house-top  the  coursers  they  flew, 
With  a  sleigh  full  of  toys  —  and  St  Nicholas,  too. 
And  then,  in  a  twinkling,  I  heard  on  the  roof 
The  prancing  and  pawing  of  each  little  hoof; 
As  I  drew  in  my  head  and  was  turning  around, 
Down  the  chimney  St.  Nicholas  came  with  a  bound. 
He  was  dressed  all  in  fur  from  his  head  to  his  foot, 
And  his  clothes  were  all  covered  with  ashes  and  soot; 
A  bundle  of  toys  he  had  thrown  on  his  back. 
And  he  looked  like  a  peddler  just  opening  his  pack ; 
His  eyes,  how  they  twinkled !  his  dimples,  how  merry, 
His  cheeks  were  like  roses,  his  nose  like  a  cherry; 
His  droll  little  mouth  was  drawn  up  like  a  bow. 
And  the  beard  on  his  chin  was  as  white  as  the  snow! 
He  was  chubby  and  plump— a  right  jolly  old  elf; 
And  I  laughed  when  I  saw  him,  in  spite  of  myself. 
A  wink  of  his  eye,  and  a  twist  of  his  head 
Soon  gave  me  to  know  I  had  nothing  to  dread. 
He  spoke  not  a  word,  but  went  straight  to  his  work, « 
And  filled  all  the  stockings;  then  turned  with  a  jerk. 
And  sprang  to  his  sleigh,  to  his  team  gave  a  whistle. 
And  away  they  all  flew  like  the  down  of  a  thistle ; 
But  I  heard  him  exclaim,  as  he  drove  out  of  sight, 
"  Merry  Christmas  to  all,  and  to  all  a  good-night." 

Clement  C.  Moobe. 


46 


THE    CRANE    FOURTH    READER. 


ar  riv'al 
jom'nef 
fa  tigued' 
trav'el  ing 
Yow'ing 
gender  ous 


LESSOI^  X. 

in  quiring- 
(m  kwlr'mg) 
im  me^di  ate  ly 
bis  ^€  wit 
awkVard 
(akVerd) 


eJiYisfen  dom 
fm  ga.ri  t^ 
po  lige^ 

per  se  ver^ange 
pair!  ot  i§m 
ger'tam  ty 


BENJAMIN   FRANKLIN. 


FRANKLIN'S  ARRIVAL  AT  PHILADELPHIA. 

Benjamin  Franklin  (1706-1790),  one  of 
America's  great  men,  began  life  as  a  printer. 
His  first  writing  was  for  his  brother's  paper. 
At  the  age  of  17  he  went  to  Philadelphia,  and 
continued  to  work  as  a  printer.  Later,  in  1729, 
he  established  The  Saturday  Evening  Post,  the 
oldest  newspaper  now  existing  in  America.  He 
wrote  many  valuable  essays,  and  for  twenty-five 
years  printed  a  work  called  Poor  Richard's  Al- 
manac. He  was  sent  by  the  United  States  to  Eng- 
land and  France,  where  he  did  so  well  that  both 
countries  had  greater  respect  for  our  nation.  He 
is  the  great  example  of  what  a  poor  boy  in 
America  may  become  if  he  is  honest  and  willing  to  work. 

1.  On  my  arrival  at  Philadelphia,  I  was  in  my  working 
dress,  my  best  clothes  being  to  come  round  by  sea.  I  was 
dirty  from  my  journey;  my  pockets  were  stuffed  out 
with  shirts  and  stockings.  I  did  not  know  a  soul  in  the 
place,  nor  where  to  look  for  lodging. 

2.  I  was  fatigued  with  traveling,  rowing,  and  want  of 
rest.  I  was  very  hungry,  and  my  whole  stock  in  cash  con- 
sisted of  a  Dutch  dollar,  and  about  a  shilling  in  copper. 
The  latter  I  gave  to  the  people  of  the  boat  for  my  passage, 
who  at  first  refused  it  on  account  of  my  rowing;  but  I 
insisted  on  their  taking  it ;  a  man  being  sometimes  more 


I 


THE    CRANE   FOUETH   READER.  47 

generous  when  he  has  but  a  little  money  than  when  he 
has  plenty  —  perhaps  through  fear  of  being  thought  to 
have  but  little. 

3.  Then  I  walked  up  the  street,  gazing  about,  till  near 
the  market-house  I  met  a  boy  with  bread.  I  had  made 
many  a  meal  on  bread,  and  inquiring  where  he  got  it,  I 
went  immediately  to  the  baker's  he  directed  me  to,  in 
Second  street,  and  asked  for  biscuit,  intending  sucli  as  we 
had  in  Boston ;  but  they,  it  seems,  were  not  made  in 
Philadelphia. 

4.  Then  I  asked  for  a  threepenny  loaf,  and  was  told 
they  had  none  such.  So,  not  considering  or  knowing  the 
great  difference  of  money,  and  the  great  cheapness  nor 
the  names  of  his  bread,  I  bade  him  give  me  threepenny 
worth  of  any  sort.  He  gave  me  accordingly  three  great 
puffy  rolls. 

5.  I  was  surprised  at  the  quantity,  but  took  it,  and,  hav- 
ing no  room  in  my  pockets,  walked  off  with  a  roll  under 
each  arm,  and  eating  the  other.  Thus  I  went  up  Market 
street  as  far  as  Fourth,  passing  by  the  door  of  Mr.  Read, 
my  future  wife's  father,  when  she,  standing  at  the  door, 
saw  me,  and  thought  I  made,  as  I  certainly  did,  a  most 
awkward,  ridiculous  appearance. 

6.  Then  1  turned  and  went  down  Chestnut  street  and 
part  of  Walnut,  eating  my  roll  all  the  way,  and,  coming 
round,  found  myself  again  at  Market  street  wharf,  near 
the  boat  I  came  in,  to  which  I  went  for  a  draught  of  the 
river- water;  and,  being  filled  with  one  of  my  rolls,  gave 
the  other  two  to  a  woman  and  her  child  that  came  down  the 
river  in  the  boat  with  us,  and  were  waiting  to  go  farther. 

7.  Thus  refreshed,  I  walked  again  up  the  street,  which 


48  THE    CKANE   FOURTH   READER. 

by  this  time  had  many  clean,  well-dressed  people  in  it, 
who  were  all  walking  the  same  way.  I  joined  them,  and 
thereby  was  led  into  the  great  meeting-house  of  the 
Quakers  near  the  market.  I  sat  down  among  them,  and, 
after  looking  round  awhile  and  hearing  nothing  said, 
being  very  drowsy  through  labor  and  want  of  rest  the 
preceding  night,  I  fell  fast  asleep,  and  continued  so  till 
the  meeting  broke  up,  when  one  was  kind  enough  to  rouse 
me.  This  was,  therefore,  the  first  house  I  was  in,  or  slept 
in,  in  Philadelphia. 

8.  ^^  This  story  is  Franklin's  history  as  a  boy  of  the 
middle  class,''  says  one  writer,  "successfully  but  indus- 
triously working  his  way  upward,  that  has  made  it  at  once 
the  most  attractive  and  most  useful  biography  of  modern 
times. 

9.  ''All  over  Christendom  it  has  met  with  the  sympathy 
of  the  working  classes,  and  it  has  done  more  than  any  other 
writing  within  my  knowledge  to  give  courage  and  heart  to 
the  sons  of  labor,  as  it  has  shown  that  the  paths  of  ambition 
are  open  to  them  as  to  others,  provided  they  be  followed 
with  Franklin's  virtues— honesty,  frugality,  perseverance, 
and  patriotism. 

10.  "What  a  contrast  between  the  influence  of  such  a 
biography  as  this,  and  that  of  a  man  whose  life  is  only 
great  for  success  in  bloodshed,  or  even  in  crime  and 
wickedness.    How  much  the  world  owes  to  Franklin ! " 

How  was  Franklin  dressed  when  he  reached  Philadelphia? 

How  much  money  had  he? 

What  was  the  first  thing  that  he  bought  after  reaching  Philadelphia? 

What  was  the  first  house  in  which  he  slept  there? 

What  has  been  said  of  "  Franklin's  history  as  a  boy  "? 

What  do  you  know  of  Franklin  from  reading  this  story? 


THE   CRANE   FOURTH   READER.  49 

LESSON  XL 

re  mem'ber  sharp^ened  ras'eal 

a€  eost^ed  eiis^tom  er§  re  speet^a  ble 

eom^pli  ment  at  tach^ment  de  Itid^ed 

flat'ter  y  tru^ant  qual  i  fi  ea^tion 

blis^tered  nier^chaiit  grmd^stone 

TURNING  THE   GRINDSTONE. 

1.  When  I  was  a  little  boy,  I  remember,  one  cold  win- 
ter's morning,  that  I  was  accosted  by  a  smiling  man  with 
an  axe  on  his  shoulder.  "  My  pretty  boy,''  said  he,  "  has 
your  father  a  grindstone?  "  "  Yes,  sir,"  said  I.  "  You  are 
a  fine  little  fellow,"  said  he;  "will  you  let  me  grind  my 
axe  on  it!"  Pleased  with  the  compliment  of  "fine  little 
fellow,"  "Oh,  yes,  sir,"  I  answered;  "it  is  down  in  the 
shop." 

2.  "And  will  you,  my  man,"  said  he,  patting  me  on 
the  head,  "  get  me  a  little  hot  water  ? "  How  could  I  re- 
fuse f  I  ran,  and  soon  brought  it.  "How  old  are  youf 
and  what 's  your  name  1 "  continued  he ;  without  waiting 
for  a  reply :  "  I  am  sure  you  are  one  of  the  finest  boys  I 
have  ever  seen ;  will  you  just  turn  a  few  minutes  for  me?  " 

3.  Pleased  with  the  flattery,  I  went  to  work,  and  bitterly 
did  I  rue  the  day.  It  was  a  new  axe,  and  I  toiled  and 
tugged  till  I  was  almost  tired  to  death.  The  school-bell 
rang,  and  I  could  not  get  away ;  my  hands  were  blistered, 
and  the  axe  was  not  half  ground. 

4.  At  length,  however,  it  was  sharpened ;  and  the  man 
turned  to  me  with,  "  Now,  you  little  rascal,  you  Ve  played 
truant ;  run  to  school,  or  you  '11  rue  it  I "    "  Alas ! "  thought 


50  THE   CRANE   FOURTH   READER. 

I,  "  it  was  hard  enough  to  turn  a  grindstone  this  cold  day ; 
but  now  to  be  called  a  little  rascal,  is  too  much." 

5.  It  sank  deep  in  my  mind,  and  often  have  I  thought 
of  it  since.  When  I  see  a  merchant  over-polite  to  his 
customers,  begging  them  to  take  a  little  brandy,  and  throw- 
ing his  goods  on  the  counter,  I  think,  "  That  man  has  an 
axe  to  grind." 

6.  When  I  see  a  man  flattering  the  people,  making  great 
professions  of  attachment  to  liberty,  but  in  private  life 
a  tyrant,  I  think,  ^'Look  out,  good  people!  That  fellow 
would  set  you  turning  grindstones."  When  I  see  a  man 
lifted  into  office  by  party  spirit,  without  one  qualification 
to  render  him  either  respectable  or  useful,  "Alas!"  I 
think,  "deluded  people,  you  are  doomed  for  a  season  to 
turn  the  grindstone  for  a  booby." 

Benjamin  Franklin. 


Hateful  to  me,  as  are  the  gates  of  hell. 

Is  he  who,  hiding  one  thing  in  his  heart. 

Utters  another.  — Bryant. 

Of  all  the  evil  spirits  abroad  at  this  hour  in  the  world,  insincerity  is 
the  most  dangerous. — Froude. 

An  evil  soul,  producing  holy  witness. 

Is  like  a  villain  with  a  smiling  cheek; 

A  goodly  apple,  rotten  at  the  heart : 

O,  what  a  goodly  outside  falsehood  hath!  — Shakespeare. 


THE   CEANE   FOURTH   READER. 


61 


lesso:n'  xil 

m  hermits 

hinds 

em  ploy^ment 

gar^ments 

mus^de§    . 

searge 

hermit  age 

sin^ew  y 

hard^i  er 

fae'to  ry 

(sm^u  y) 

be  ni^n^ 

stom^ae^ 

ad  judged' 

Miv'ship 

THE   HERITAGE. 

James  Russell  Lowell  (1819-1891)  all  his 
life  called  one  house  his  home.  This  house  was 
named  Elmwood,  and  was  in  Cambridge,  Massa- 
chusetts. He  was  educated  at  Harvard  College, 
and  was  at  one  time  a  teacher  in  this  school. 
He  was  the  first  editor  of  the  Atlantic  Monthly, 
and  later  he  edited  the  North  American  Review. 
He  was  sent  as  minister  to  Spain  in  1877,  and  to 
England  in  1880.  He  wrote  many  fine  prose 
works  and  many  beautiful  poems. 


JAMES   RUSSELL  LOWELL. 


1.   The  rich  man's  son  inherits  lands, 

And  piles  of  brick  and  stone  and  gold 
And  he  inherits  soft  white  hands, 
And  tender  flesh  that  fears  the  cold, 
Nor  dares  to  wear  a  garment  old : 
A  heritage,  it  seems  to  me. 
One  scarce  would  wish  to  hold  in  fee. 


2.   The  rich  man's  son  inherits  cares ; 

The  bank  may  break,  the  factory  burn, 
A  breath  may  burst  his  bubble  shares. 
And  soft  white  hands  could  hardly  earn 
A  living  that  would  serve  his  turn : 


62  THE    CRANE   FOURTH   READER. 

A  heritage,  it  seems  to  me, 

One  scarce  would  wish  to  hold  in  fee. 

3.  The  rich  man's  son  inherits  wants, 

His  stomach  craves  for  dainty  fare ; 
With  sated  heart,  he  hears  the  pants 
Of  toiling  hinds  with  brown  arms  bare, 
And  wearies  in  his  easy-chair : 
A  heritage,  it  seems  to  me. 
One  scarce  would  wish  to  hold  in  fee. 

4.  What  doth  the  poor  man's  son  inherit? 

Stout  muscles  and  a  sinewy  heart, 
A  hardy  frame,  a  hardier  spirit; 
King  of  two  hands,  he  does  his  part 
In  every  useful  toil  and  art: 
A  heritage,  it  seems  to  me, 
A  king  might  wish  to  hold  in  fee. 

5.  What  doth  the  poor  man's  son  inherit? 

Wishes  o'er  joyed  with  humble  things, 
A  rank  adjudged  by  toil-won  merit, 

Content  that  from  employment  springs, 
A  heart  that  in  its  labor  sings: 
A  heritage,  it  seems  to  me, 
A  king  might  wish  to  hold  in  fee. 

6.  What  doth  the  poor  man's  son  inherit? 

A  patience  learned  of  being  poor. 
Courage,  if  sorrow  come,  to  bear  it, 
A  fellow-feeling,  that  is  sure 
To  make  the  outcast  bless  his  door: 


THE    CKANE   FOURTH   EEADER.  63 

A  heritage,  it  seems  to  me, 

A  king  might  wish  to  hold  in  fee. 

7.  0  rich  man's  son!  there  is  a  toil 

That  with  all  others  level  stands ; 
Large  charity  doth  never  soil, 

But  only  whiten,  soft  white  hands. 

This  is  the  best  crop  from  thy  lands : 
A  heritage,  it  seems  to  me, 
Worth  being  rich  to  hold  in  fee. 

8.  0  poor  man's  son !  scorn  not  thy  state ; 

There  is  worse  weariness  than  thine. 

In  merely  being  rich  and  great; 
Toil  only  makes  the  soul  to  shine. 
And  makes  rest  fragrant  and  benign : 

A  heritage,  it  seems  to  me. 

Worth  being  poor  to  hold  in  fee. 

9.  Both,  heirs  to  some  six  feet  of  sod. 

Are  equal  in  the  earth  at  last; 
Both,  children  of  the  same  dear  God, 

Prove  title  to  your  heirship  vast 

By  record  of  a  well-filled  past : 
A  heritage,  it  seems  to  me. 
Well  worth  a  life  to  hold  in  fee. 

James   Russell   Lowell. 
Give  the  meaning  of  these  lines: 

"And  wearies  in  his  easy-chair;" 

"  A  breath  may  burst  his  bubble  shares ;  " 

"  King  of  two  hands ;  " 

"  A  heart  that  in  its  labor  sings ;  " 

"  To  make  the  outcast  bless  his  door." 


54  THE   CKANE   FOUKTH   KEADER. 


LESSOIST  XIII. 

mu'§i€ 

daf  fo  dil§ 

man'tle§ 

mes^sage 

vi^o  lets 

sway'mg 

€ro^€us 

blue'bird 

lis'ten 

THE   BLUEBIRD. 

1.  I  KNOW  the  song  that  the  bluebird  is  singing, 
Out  in  the  apple-tree  where  he  is  swinging. 
Brave  little  fellow!  the  skies  may  be  dreary, — 
Nothing  cares  he  while  his  heart  is  so  cheery. 

2.  Hark !  how  the  music  leaps  out  from  his  throat ! 
Hark !  was  there  ever  so  merry  a  note ! 
Listen  awhile,  and  you  '11  hear  what  he 's  saying, 
Up  in  the  apple-tree  swinging  and  swaying : 

3.  "  Dear  little  blossoms  down  under  the  snow. 
You  must  be  weary  of  winter,  I  know ; 
Hark  while  I  sing  you  a  message  of  cheer  1 
Summer  is  coming !  and  spring-time  is  here ! 

4.  "Little  white  snowdrop!  I  pray  you  arise; 
Bright  yellow  crocus !  come,  open  your  eyes ; 
Sweet  little  violets,  hid  from  the  cold. 

Put  on  your  mantles  of  purple  and  gold ; 
Daffodils !  daffodils !  say,  do  you  hear  1  — 
Summer  is  coming !  and  spring-time  is  here ! '' 

Emily  Huntington  Miller. 
Describe  the  bluebird. 
What  are  its  habits? 


THE    CKANE    FOUKTH    READER. 


65 


LESSOIsT  XIV. 

in  terri  ty- 

a chieve' 

eor  po  ra^tion 

pos  ses^sions 

tri^umphs 

man  kind^ 

(poz  zesh'iinz) 

(trfiimfs) 

av^e  nue 

a€  qvLire' 

in  dis  pen^sa  bk 

•  €ap'i  tal 

op  por  tti'ni  ty- 

in  vin^gi  bk 

Qit^i  zen  ship 

WILLIAM   M'KINLEY. 


INTEGRITY  AND   INDUSTRY. 

William  McKinley  (1843-1901)  was  born 
at  Niles,  Ohio.  He  served  four  years  in  the 
Civil  War.  Afterward  he  was  sent  to  Congress. 
He  was  then  made  Governor  of  Ohio,  and  twice 
made  President  of  the  United  States.  He  was 
shot  and  killed  at  Buffalo,  New  York,  in  Sep- 
tember, 1901. 

Integrity  and  industry  are  the  best 
possessions  any  man  can  have;  and 
every  man  can  have  them.  Nobody 
can  give  them  to  him  or  take  them 
from  him.  He  cannot  acquire  them  by  inheritance;  he 
cannot  buy  them  or  beg  them  or  borrow  them.  They  are 
his  unquestioned  property.  He  alone  can  part  with  them. 
They  are  good  to  have  and  to  keep.  They  make  happy 
homes;  they  achieve  success  in  every  walk  of  life;  they 
have  won  the  greatest  triumphs  for  mankind.  No  man 
who  has  them  ever  gets  into  the  police  court  or  before 
the  grand  jury  or  in  the  workhouse  or  the  chain-gang. 
They  give  one  moral  and  material  power.  They  will 
give  you  a  comfortable  living,  make  you  respect  yourself, 
and  command  the  respect  of  your  fellows.  They  are 
indispensable  to  success.    They  are  invincible.    The  mer- 


56 


THE    CRANE   FOURTH   READER. 


chant  requires  the  clerk  whom  he  employs  to  have  them. 
The  railroad  corporation  inquires  whether  the  man  seek- 
ing employment  possesses  them.  Every  avenue  of  human 
endeavor  welcomes  them.  They  are  the  only  keys  to  open 
with  certainty  the  door  of  opportunity  to  struggling  man- 
hood. Employment  waits  on  them ;  capital  requires  them ; 
citizenship  is  not  good  without  them.  If  you  do  not  al- 
ready have  them,  get  them. 


William  McKinley. 

LESSON  XV. 

vai^lt^ed 

van'quished 

sen^su  al 

siim^mit 

re  §61ve^ 

(sen'shu  al) 

de  po§ed^ 

sor^did 

sap'phire 

as  pire^ 

mas'tered 
GRADATION. 

(safir) 

JosiAH  Gilbert  Holland  (1819-1881)  is  best 
known  as  editor  of  Scribner^s  Magazine.  He 
was  a  doctor  of  medicine,  but  his  books  made 
him  famous  in  America.  His  best-known  works 
are:  Bitter-Sweet,  Kathrina,  Arthur  Bonnicastle, 
and  Miss  Gilbert's  Career. 

1.  Heaven  is  not  reached  at  a  single 
bound ; 
But  we  build  the  ladder  by  which 

we  rise 
From   the   lowly   earth   to   the 
vaulted  skies, 
And  we  mount  to  the  summit  round  by  round. 


J.    G.    HOLLAND. 


THE   CEANE   FOUETH   EEADER.  57 

2.  I  count  this  thing  to  be  grandly  true : 

That  a  noble  deed  is  a  step  toward  God, 
Lifting  the  soul  from  the  common  sod 
To  a  purer  air  and  a  broader  view. 

3.  We  rise  by  things  that  are  under  our  feet; 

By  what  we  have  mastered  of  good  and  gain, 
By  the  pride  deposed  and  the  passion  slain. 
And  the  vanquished  ills  that  we  hourly  meet. 

4.  We  hope,  we  aspire,  we  resolve,  we  trust. 

When  the  morning  calls  us  to  life  and  light ; 
But  our  hearts  grow  weary,  and  ere  the  night 
Our  lives  are  trailing  the  sordid  dust. 

5.  We  hope,  we  resolve,  we  aspire,  we  pray. 

And  we  think  that  we  mount  the  air  on  wings. 
Beyond  the  recall  of  sensual  things. 
While  our  feet  still  cling  to  the  heavy  clay. 

6.  Only  in  dreams  is  a  ladder  thrown 

From  the  weary  earth  to  the  sapphire  walls ; 
But  the  dreams  depart,  and  the  vision  falls, 
And  the  sleeper  awakes  on  his  pillow  of  stone. 

7.  Heaven  is  not  reached  at  a  single  bound; 

But  we  build  the  ladder  by  which  we  rise 

From  the  lowly  earth  to  the  vaulted  skies, 

And  we  mount  to  the  summit  round  by  round. 

JosiAH  Gilbert  Holland. 
Repeat  from  memory  the  best  verse  in  this  lesson. 


58  THE    CKANE    FOURTH   READER. 


LESSON^  XYI. 

eat'er  pil  lar 

€0  €oon^ 

eMo'ro  form 

par^a  graph 

glo^ri  oils 

€ol  lee'tion 

WYig'gled 

gender  al 

ex  qWM 

waiter-proof 

speg^i  men§ 

flti^id 

STORY 

OF  THE   BUTTERFLY. 

1.  I  WAS  at  play  in  the  garden  one  cold  antnmn  morning, 
when  I  saw  a  large  caterpillar  on  the  north-side  fence. 
It  wriggled  and  twisted  about  in  such  a  funny  way,  that 
I  stopped  my  play  and  watched  it. 

2.  It  drew  out  of  its  mouth  a  sticky  fluid,  and  with  it 
painted  its  whole  body.  All  the  boys  soon  came  about  me, 
and  as  we  were  sure  it  was  a  chance  to  learn  something  of 
butterfly  life,  we  sent  to  ask  my  aunt  to  come,  too. 

3.  She  told  us  the  butterfly  was  spinning  a  sticky  thread, 
that  would  harden  by-and-by  and  serve  him  in  two  ways. 
It  would  hold  him  to  the  fence  when  he  lost  the  power  to 
hold  himself,  and  make  a  coat  to  keep  out  the  wet  and  the 
cold  while  he  was  taking  his  winter's  nap. 

4.  We  thought  that  what  kept  out  the  cold  would  keep 
out  the  air,  too,  and  did  not  see  what  was  to  save  the  poor 
creature  from  stifling.  Before  he  had  finished  his  water- 
proof coat  it  seemed  more  like  a  tomb  than  the  covering 
of  a  living  thing.  One  of  the  boys  thought  he  would  rest 
from  breathing,  perhaps,  as  indeed  he  did,  so  far  as  any- 
one could  see. 

5.  One  day  I  cut  the  cocoon  from  the  fence  and  put  it 
on  the  shelf  in  my  room,  and  then,  boy-like,  forgot  the 
whole  matter. 


THE   CRANE   FOUETH   READER.  59 

6.  But  there  came  a  summer  morning,  when,  as  I 
was  dressing  in  my  room,  I  heard  a  little  pecking  sound. 
I  thought  it  was  a  hungry  mouse,  but  as  I  chanced  to  come 
near  the  shelf,  to  my  surprise  the  caterpillar  cocoon  was 
shaking,  and  from  one  end  something  was  pushing  itself 
out. 

7.  It  proved  to  be  a  sharp  point  pushing  to  make  an 
opening.  Very  soon  a  head  appeared,  and  after  a  few 
more  violent  wriggles  a  glorious  butterfly  presented  itself. 

8.  I  well  remember  how  excited  I  became,  as,  half 
dressed,  I  ran  through  the  house  begging  all  the  family  to 
come  to  see  the  strangest  thing  that  had  ever  happened  yet. 

9.  I  can  see  the  creature  now,  in  my  mind.  It  was  of 
a  yellowish-brown  color,  and  its  wings  when  spread  were 
fully  three  inches  from  tip  to  tip,  while  its  body  was  more 
than  an  inch  long.  Both  body  and  wings  were  covered 
with  scales. 

10.  With  what  delight  I  found  its  two  horns,  and  saw  it 
thrust  out  and  draw  back  its  hollowed  tongue.  I  kept  it 
for  many  years,  though  to  do  so  I  had  to  shorten  its  little 
life. 

11.  it  was  this  that  gave  me  my  first  interest  in  the  study 
of  insects.  Did  I  ever  tell  you  of  one  of  Napoleon  Bona- 
parte's generals,  who  took  such  delight  in  getting  speci- 
mens of  butterflies'? 

"  No,  papa,  I  am  sure  you  never  did.    Is  it  a  true  story? " 
Yes,  little  Jack,  a  true  story. 

12.  Whenever  this  general  led  his  soldiers  out  in  new 
countries,  he  looked  for  new  kinds  of  insects,  and  when 
one  was  found  he  pinned  it  upon  his  hat.  The  soldiers 
were  used  to  seeing  their  general's  hat,  even  in  battles, 


60  THE   CKANE   FOUKTH   READER. 

adorned  with  his  treasures,  bright  butterflies  and  shining 
bugs. 

13.  During  a  battle,  while  at  Napoleon's  side,  a  shot 
struck  the  general's  head  and  threw  him  unconscious  from 
his  horse.  Napoleon  asked  anxiously,  "  Is  he  still  alive  ? " 
He  answered  as  soon  as  he  could,  "I  am  alive,  but,  alas, 
my  insects  are  all  gone,"  for  his  hat  was  torn  to  pieces. 

14.  "  That 's  a  nice  story,''  said  Harry,  "  but  it  seems 
cruel  to  kill  the  poor  things." 

We  should  not  get  our  pleasure  at  the  expense  of  pain 
to  the  poor  insects,  but  these  little  creatures  have  but  a 
short,  gay  life  at  the  best.  If  we  wish  to  study  them 
ourselves  or  to  show  others  their  wonderful  varieties  and 
beauties,  it  seems  to  me  right  to  shorten  the  life  a  little, 
since  it  can  be  done  without  pain. 

15.  "How  can  it,  papa?"  asked  Harry. 

Do  you  remember  taking  chloroform,  and  knowing 
nothing  while  your  broken  arm  was  being  set? 

16.  "Indeed  I  do." 

Well,  if  you  had  taken  too  much  you  would  never  have 
had  the  power  to  awake.  That  is  what  happens  to  the 
butterfly.  All  that  he  knows  is  lighting  on  a  sponge  and 
feeling  sleepy.    The  overdose  takes  his  life. 

17.  "  May  we  begin  to  make  a  collection?  " 

Yes,  if  you  do  it  to  learn,  and  not  for  the  mere  pleasure 
of  having  something  pretty  to  look  at. 

Tell  the  story  of  the  caterpillar. 

What  are  the  thoughts  in  the  fourth  and  fifth  paragraphs? 

What  was  heard  one  summer  morning? 

What  is  the  meaning  of  cocoon? 

What  did  the  boy  do  with  the  cocoon? 

What  finally  came  out  of  it? 


THE   CRANE   FOURTH   READER. 


61 


LESSON  XVII. 

meas^ured 

jew^eled 

dark'ened 

(mezh  tved) 

(j^eld) 

shroud'ed 

Yi'ot  ous 

charige 

rb^e^wdbd 

thresh'old 

eoVtage 

eas^ket 

MEASURING  THE   BABY. 

We  measured  the  riotous  baby 

Against  the  cottage  wall; 
A  lily  grew  at  the  threshold, 

And  the  boy  was  just  as  tall : 
A  royal  tiger-lily, 

With  spots  of  purple  and  gold. 
And  a  heart  like  a  jeweled  chalice, 

The  fragrant  dew  to  hold. 

Without,  the  blackbird  whistled, 

High  up  in  the  old  elm  trees. 
And  to  and  fro  at  the  window 

The  red  rose  rocked  her  bees; 
And  the  small  pink  fists  of  the  baby 

Were  never  a  moment  still. 
Catching  at  shine  and  shadow 

That  danced  on  the  window  sill. 


3.   Ah,  me!    In  a  darkened  chamber. 
With  the  sunshine  shut  away. 
Through  tears  that  fell  like  bitter  rain. 
We  measured  the  baby  to-day. 


62  THE    CKANE   FOURTH   READER. 

And  the  little  bare  feet  that  were  dimpled, 
And  sweet  as  a  budding  rose, 

Lay  side  by  side  together, 
In  the  hush  of  a  long  repose. 

4.  Up  from  the  snowy  pillow, 

White  as  the  morning  dawn, 
A  fair  little  face  lay  smiling, 

With  the  light  of  heaven  thereon ; 
And  the  dear  little  hands,  like  rose-leaves 

Dropped  from  the  rose,  lay  still. 
Never  to  catch  at  the  sunshine 

That  crept  to  the  shrouded  sill. 

5.  We  measured  the  sleeping  baby 

With  ribbons  white  as  snow. 
For  the  shining  rosewood  casket 

That  waited  him  below. 
And  out  of  the  darkened  chamber 

We  went  with  a  childless  moan: 
To  the  height  of  the  sinless  angels 

Our  dear  little  one  had  grown. 

Emma  Alice  Browne. 

Tell  in  your  own  language  the  story  of  measuring  the  baby. 
Which  stanza  do  you  like  the  best? 


They  are  idols  of  hearts  and  of  households; 

They  are  angels  of  God  in  disguise.  — Dickinson. 

Ah!    what  would  the  world  be  to  us. 

If   the   children   were    no    more? 
We  should  dread  the  desert  behind  us 

Worse  than  the  dark  before.  — Longfellow. 


THE    CRANE    FOURTH    READER.  63 


LESSON"  XVIII. 


stogie  in  €li  na'tion  Ma  hom^et  an 

eq^ui  page  ap  pear^ange  mns  tach^eg 

(ek^wipaj)  haz^ardg  (tash) 

ttm  breria  mon'stroiis 
CRUSOE'S    HOME. 

1.  It  would  have  made  a  stoic  smile  to  see  me  and  my 
little  family  seated  at  dinner.  There  was  my  majesty, 
myself,  prince  and  lord  of  the  whole  island;  I  had  the 
lives  of  all  my  subjects  at  my  command;  I  could  hang, 
draw,  give  liberty,  and  take  it  away ;  and  no  rebels  were  to 
be  found  in  all  my  kingdom. 

2.  Then  to  see,  too,  how  like  a  king  I  dined,  all  alone, 
attended  by  my  servants.  Poll,  as  if  he  had  been  my 
favorite,  was  the  only  person  permitted  to  talk  to  me.  My 
dog,  who  was  now  grown  very  old  and  crazy,  sat  always  at 
my  right  hand ;  and  the  two  cats  used  to  take  seats,  one  on 
one  side  of  the  table  and  one  on  the  other,  expecting  now 
and  then  a  bit  from  my  hand,  as  a  mark  of  special  favor. 

3.  With  this  attendance,  and  in  this  plentiful  manner, 
I  lived.  Neither  could  I  be  said  to  want  anything  but 
society ;  and  of  that,  some  time  afterward,  I  was  likely  to 
have  too  much. 

4.  I  was  something  impatient,  as  I  have  observed,  to 
have  the  use  of  my  boat,  though  very  loath  to  run  any 
more  hazards ;  and  therefore  sometimes  I  sat  myself  down 
contented  enough  without  it.  But  I  had  a  strange  uneasi- 
ness in  my  mind  to  go  down  to  the  point  of  the  island, 
where,  in  my  last  ramble,  I  went  up  the  hill  to  see  how 
the  shore  lay,  and  how  the  current  set,  that  I  might  see 


64  THE   CKANE   FOUETH   READEK. 

what  I  had  to  do.  This  inclination  increased  upon  me 
every  day,  and  at  length  I  resolved  to  travel  thither  by 
land,  following  the  edge  of  the  shore.  I  did  so,  but  had 
anyone  in  England  met  then  such  a  wild  man  as  I  was, 
such  a  meeting  must  either  have  frightened  him  or  have 
raised  a  great  deal  of  laughter ;  and  whenever  I  thought  of 
my  appearance,  I  could  not  but  smile  at  the  notion  of  my 
traveling  through  Yorkshire  with  such  an  equipage  and  in 
such  a  dress.  Be  pleased  to  take  a  sketch  of  my  figure,  as 
follows : 

5.  I  had  a  great  high,  shapeless  cap,  made  of  goatskin, 
with  a  flap  hanging  down  behind,  as  well  to  keep  the  sun 
from  me  as  to  shoot  the  rain  off  from  running  into  my 
neck,  nothing  being  so  hurtful  in  these  climates  as  the 
rain  upon  the  flesh,  under  the  clothes. 

6.  I  had  a  short  jacket,  also  of  goatskin,  the  skirts  com- 
ing down  to  about  the  middle  of  the  thighs,  and  a  pair  of 
open-kneed  breeches  of  the  same.  The  breeches  were  made 
of  the  skin  of  an  old  goat.  The  hair  of  this  skin  hung  down 
such  a  length  on  either  side  that,  like  pantaloons,  it  reached 
to  the  middle  of  my  legs.  Stockings  and  shoes  I  had  none, 
but  I  had  made  me  a  pair  of  some  things,  I  scarce  know 
what  to  call  them,  but  they  were  like  buskins,  and  flapped 
over  my  legs,  and  were  laced  on  either  side,  like  spatter- 
dashes, but  they  were  of  a  most  barbarous  shape,  as  in- 
deed were  all  the  rest  of  my  clothes. 

7.  I  had  on  a  broad  belt  of  goatskin,  dried,  which  I 
drew  together  with  two  thongs  of  the  same,  instead  of 
buckles ;  and  in  a  kind  of  frog  on  either  side  of  this,  in- 
stead of  a  sword  and  dagger,  hung  a  little  saw  and  hatchet, 
one  on  one  side  and  one  on  the  other.    I  had  another  belt, 


THE    CEANE    FOURTH   READER.  65 

not  SO  broad,  and  fastened  in  the  same  manner,  which 
hung  over  my  shoulder ;  and  at  the  end  of  it,  under  my  left 
arm,  hung  two  pouches,  both  made  of  goatskin,  too,  in  one 
of  which  hung  my  powder,  in  the  other  my  shot.  At  my 
back  I  carried  my  basket,  and  on  my  shoulder  my  gun, 
and  over  my  head  a  great  clumsy  goatskin  umbrella.  This 
was  the  most  necessary  thing  I  had  about  me,  next  to  my 
gun.  As  for  my  face,  the  color  of  it  was  really  not  so 
mulatto-like  as  one  might  expect  from  a  man  not  at  all  care- 
ful of  it,  and  living  within  nine  or  ten  degrees  of  the  equa- 
tor. My  beard  I  had  once  suffered  to  grow  till  it  was  about 
a  quarter  of  a  yard  long,  but  as  I  had  both  scissors  and 
razors  sufficient,  I  had  cut  it  pretty  short,  except  what 
grew  on  my  upper  lip,  which  I  had  trimmed  into  a  large 
pair  of  Mahometan  whiskers,  such  as  I  had  seen  worn  by 
some  Turks  at  Sallee,  for  the  Moors  did  not  wear  such, 
though  the  Turks  did.  Of  these  mustaches  or  whiskers,  I 
will  not  say  they  were  long  enough  to  hang  my  hat  upon 
them,  but  they  were  of  a  length  and  shape  monstrous 
enough,  and  such  as  in  England  would  have  passed  for 
frightful. 

8.  When  I  got  to  the  boat,  I  could  not  help  recalling  the 
dangers  of  my  former  voyage,  and  my  spirits  sunk  at 
thought  of  another.  So  I  resolved  to  build  me  a  new 
canoe.  After  doing  this,  I  then  had  a  boat  for  each  side 
of  the  island,  and  I  felt  more  secure. 

Daniel  Defoe. 

What  is  a  stoic? 

What  are  buskins? 

What  is  meant  by  Mahometan  whiskers? 


66  THE   CEANE   FOtTBTH  READER. 

LESSON^    XIX. 

€at'a  ra€t  bungle  splen^dor  (der] 

THE    BUGLE-SONG. 

1.  The  splendor  falls  on  castle  walls, 

And  snowy  summits  old  in  story; 
The  IcTng  light  shakes  across  the  lakes, 

And  the  wild  cataract  leaps  in  glory. 
Blow,  bugle,  blow,  set  the  wild  echoes  flying: 
Blow,  bugle;  answer,  echoes,  dying,  dying,  dying. 

2.  Oh,  hark,  oh,  hark !  how  thin  and  clear. 

And  thinner,  clearer,  farther  going ! 
Oh,  sweet  and  far  from  cliff  and  scar, 

The  horns  of  Elfland  faintly  blowing ! 
Blow,  let  us  hear  the  purple  glens  replying : 
Blow,  bugle;  answer,  echoes,  dying,  dying,  dying. 

3.  0  love,  they  die  in  yon  rich  sky. 

They  faint  on  hill  or  field  or  river : 
Our  echoes  roll  from  soul  to  soul, 
And  grow  forever  and  forever. 
Blow,  bugle,  blow,  set  the  wild  echoes  flying. 
And  answer,  echoes,  answer,  dying,  dying,  dying. 

Alfred  Tennyson. 

How  could  the  light  shake  across  the  lakes? 
What  is  meant  by  Elfland? 
How  can  echoes  grow  forever? 


THE    CRANE    FOURTH    READER. 


67 


LESSON  XX. 

siir  round'mg 

€iit'tk-fish 

spokes 

or  na  men'tal 

swim^mmg 

squid§ 

vfo  lent  ly- 

op  er  action 

eloud^ing 

leatii'er  f 

squirt'ing 

suck^er§ 

A   BABY  CUTTLE-FISH, 

1.  There  is  a  queer  baby  that  lives  in  the  sea.  Without 
fins,  he  can  swim ;  without  feet,  he  can  walk ;  and  without 
wings,  he  can  shoot  through  the  water  as  a  bird  through 
the  air.  He  has  no  hands,  yet  no  creature  can  cling  better 
than  he ;  he  is  so  soft  that  a  rope  will  cut  him  in  two,  and 
he  has  but  one  bone  in  his  body,  yet  he  feeds  upon  live  fish 
and  other  creatures  that  he  catches  and  kills  for  himself. 

2.  Though  he  has  no  legs,  he  has  arms,  and  they  grow 
out  of  the  top  of  his  head,  surrounding  his  mouth  like  the 
spokes  of  a  wheel.    These  fishes  have  eight  arms,  and  some 


6$  d'Hf:   CKANE   FOtTMH   ti:BAt)EIl. 

of  them  ten,  and  they  have  been  seen  to  use  them  as  legs, 
walking  on  the  tips,  and  looking  like  large  spiders. 

3.  They  have  also  many  names.  Some  people  call  them 
cuttle-fish ;  fishermen  call  them  squids,  and  in  stories  they 
are  devil-fish. 

4.  This  queer  baby  was  caught  alive  on  our  coast.  You 
can  tell  by  the  picture  how  he  looked  when  swimming, 
with  all  his  arms  straight  out  before  his  head,  so  as  to  go 
easily  through  the  water. 

5.  On  the  under  side  of  his  body,  just  behind  the  arms, 
is  a  small  tube  which  takes  the  place  of  feet  and  wings 
and  fins.  It  acts  as  a  sort  of  pump,  and  he  moves  by  vio- 
lently squirting  water  from  it.  As  you  will  also  see  by 
the  picture  of  the  larger  fish,  generally  it  points  forward, 
and  the  pumping  operation  sends  him  backward,  which 
is  his  favorite  way  of  traveling ;  but  the  tube  can  be  turned 
any  way,  and  he  can  shoot  sideways,  or  even  straight  for- 
ward if  he  likes. 

6.  Inside  the  body  is  also  another  important  thing,  a 
bag  of  black  fluid,  and  when  the  creature  wishes  to  hide 
he  sends  some  of  this  fluid  out  through  the  tube,  thus  cloud- 
ing the  water  so  that  he  cannot  be  seen. 

7.  Along  the  under  side  of  the  leathery  arms  are  points 
which  look  like  rows  of  buttons.  One  might  easily  think 
them  ornamental,  but  so  far  from  that,  they  are  the  most 
useful  things  he  has.  They  are  what  he  holds  on  by  — 
they  are  suckers.  Where  one  of  these  innocent-looking 
buttons  touches  anything,  there  it  sticks,  and  cannot  be 
pulled  away. 

8.  On  some  of  the  family  the  suckers  have  around  the 
edge  a  horny  ring  with  points  like  saw-teeth  sticking  up. 


TnE    CKANE    FOUKTH    READER. 


«0 


and  when  the  sucker  takes  hold,  the  sharp  teeth  cut  into 
the  flesh  of  the  victim.  But  the  little  ones  have  only  soft, 
leathery  suckers,  though  they  can  hold  on  to  an  object 
wonderfully. 

9.  These  curious  fellows  are  often  caught  on  our  coast, 
and  when  brought  up  without  being  hurt,  have  been  kept 
alive  several  days.  This  one  of  which  I  have  been  telling 
lived  in  a  pan  —  where  he  could  be  studied. 

Have  you  ever  seen  a  cuttle-fish? 

Give  the  different  names  applied  to  it. 

What  means  does  the  fish  use  for  propelling  the  body  through  the  water? 

How  does  it  take  its  food? 

Write  on  a  slate  some  of  the  things  you  have  learned  about  a  cuttle-fish. 


Old   Ocean's   gray   and  melancholy   waste,- 
Are  but  the  solemn  decorations  all 
Of  the  great  tomb  of  man. 


— Bryant. 


And  I  have  loved  thee,  Ocean!    and  my  joy 
Of  youthful  sports  was  on  thy  breast  to  be 
Borne,  like  thy  bubbles,  onward;    from  a  boy 
I  wanton'd  with  thy  breakers. 


-Byron. 


Roll  on,  thou  deep  and  dark  blue  Ocean  —  roll! 
Ten  thousand  fleets  sweep  over  thee  in  vain; 
Man  marks  the  earth  with  ruin  —  his  control 
Stops  with  the  shore. 


— Byron- 


Children    are    we 

Of   the   restless   sea. 
Swelling   in   anger   or   sparkling   in  glee; 

We  follow  and  race, 

In  shifting  chase. 
Over  the  boundless  ocean-space!  — Bayard  Taylor, 


70 


THE    CRANE    FOURTH    READER. 


LESSON^  XXI. 

ex  traor^di  nary 

flor'ins 

chig^d  ing 

(eks  tror'di  na  r^) 

fawn 

s^iilp'tor 

ma/vel  oils 

muge^iim 

ap  pren'tige 

A    STORY    OF    MICHAEL    ANGELO. 

1.  When  Michael  Angelo  was  twelve  years  of  age,  al- 
though he  had  had  no  instruction  in  art  he  produced  a  piece 
of  work  which  greatly  pleased  a  famous  Florentine  painter 
of  that  day.  This  artist  at  once  declared  that  the  lad  must 
have  a  chance  to  develop  the  extraordinary  genius  that 
even  then  promised  to  astonish  the  world  with  its  grandeur. 

2.  Michael  had  long  wished  to  be  a  painter  or  a  sculptor, 
but  he  had  no  hope  that  his  father,  who  was  a  distinguished 
man  in  the  state,  and  held  art  and  artists  in  contempt, 
would  listen  to  any  suggestions  on  the  subject.  He  had 
planned  a  great  political  career  for  his  son,  as  the  boy 
well  knew. 

3.  Fortunately  for  Michael  Angelo  and  for  the  world,  the 
painter  who  sought  to  befriend  the  lad  was  too  enthusiastic 
to  be  easily  baffled  in  any  pursuit.  He  once  visited  the 
father,  and  asked  him  to  let  Michael  follow  the  profession 
best  suited  to  the  marvelous  genius  so  early  displayed. 

4.  The  father  said  to  MichaePs  patron :  ^'  I  give  up  my 
son  to  you.  He  shall  be  your  apprentice  or  your  servant, 
as  you  please,  for  three  years,  and  you  must  pay  me 
twenty-four  florins  for  his  services.'' 

5.  In  spite  of  the  insulting  words  and  the  insulting 
terms,  Michael  Angelo  consented  to  be  hir^d  out  as  a 


THE    CRANE    FOUETH    READER.  71 

servant  to  the  artist,  who  should  have  been  paid  by  his 
father  for  teaching  him. 

6.  When  Michael  Angelo  had  worked  at  his  art  about 
two  years,  he  went  one  day  to  the  Gardens  of  St.  Mark, 
where  the  Prince  Lorenzo  de'  Medici  —  the  illustrious 
patron  of  art  in  Florence  —  had  established  a  rich  museum 
at  great  expense. 

7.  One  of  the  workmen  in  the  garden  gave  the  boy  per- 
mission to  try  his  hand  at  copying  some  of  the  statues,  and 
Michael,  who  had  hitherto  studied  only  painting,  was  glad 
of  a  chance  to  experiment  with  the  chisel,  preferring  that 
to  the  brush. 

8.  He  chose  for  his  model  an  ancient  figure  of  a  faun, 
which  was  somewhat  mutilated ;  the  mouth  of  the  marble 
image  was  entirely  broken  off.  But  the  boy  was  very  self- 
reliant,  and  trifles  did  not  trouble  him.  He  worked  day 
after  day  with  his  chisel,  creating  for  his  faun  a  mouth 
of  his  own  imagining, —  the  lips  parted  in  laughter,  and 
the  teeth  displayed. 

9.  When  he  had  finished  and  was  looking  at  his  work, 
a  man  standing  near  asked  whether  he  might  offer  a  criti- 
cism. 

''  Yes,"  answered  the  boy,  ^'  if  it  is  a  just  one." 
"  Of  that  you  shall  be  the  judge,"  said  the  man. 
"Very  well.    What  is  it?" 

10.  "  The  forehead  of  your  faun  is  old,  but  the  mouth 
is  young.  See,  it  has  a  full  set  of  perfect  teeth.  A  faun 
so  old  as  this  one  is  would  not  have  perfect  teeth,"  said  the 
stranger,  looking  very  gravely  into  the  face  of  the  young 
sculptor. 


72  THE    CKANE    FOUKTH    KEADEK. 

11.  The  lad  admitted  the  justice  of  the  criticism,  smiled 
at  the  thought  of  his  blunder,  and  proceeded  to  remedy  the 
defect  by  chipping  away  two  or  three  of  the  teeth,  and 
chiseling  the  gums  so  as  to  give  them  a  shriveled  appear- 
ance. 

12.  The  next  morning,  when  Michael  went  to  remove  his 
faun  from  the  garden,  it  was  gone.  He  searched  every- 
where for  it,  but  without  success.  The  workmen,  who 
had  been  very  much  interested  in  the  boy's  labor,  could 
not  tell  what  had  become  of  the  statue.  Finally,  seeing  the 
man  who  had  made  the  suggestion  about  the  teeth,  Michael 
asked  him  where  it  was. 

13.  "If  you  will  follow  me,''  replied  the  man,  "I  will 
show  you  where  it  is." 

"  You  must  give  it  back  to  me !  I  made  it,  and  have  a 
right  to  it."  And  the  bright  eyes  of  Michael  Angelo  flashed 
with  all  the  pride  of  ownership. 

"  Oh,  if  you  must  have  it,  you  shall,"  was  the  reply. 

14.  Then  the  stranger  led  the  way  into  the  palace  of  the 
prince,  and  there,  among  the  most  precious  works  of  art  in 
the  collection,  stood  the  faun. 

What  did  Michael  Angelo  do  when  he  became  a  man? 


I 


THE    CKANE    FOUKTH    READER.  73 


LESSOR  XXII. 

sil€  Qes5^ful  black^ber  rie§  ^m  ploy^er§ 

ki^ch^en  ex  pe^ri  enge  busi^ness 

washing  torer  a  bly  (biz^nes) 

STICK  TO  YOUR   BUSH. 

1.  A  RICH  man,  in  answer  to  the  question  how  he  became 
so  successful,  gave  the  following  story: 

"  I  will  tell  you  how  it  was.  One  day  when  I  was  a  boy, 
a  number  of  boys  and  girls  were  going  to  a  pasture  at 
some  distance  to  pick  berries.  I  wanted  to  go  with  them, 
but  was  afraid  my  father  would  not  let  me. 

2.  "  When  I  told  him  what  was  going  on,  he  at  once  said 
I  could  go  too,  and  my  joy  was  great.  I  rushed  into  the 
kitchen,  got  a  big  basket,  and  asked  mother  for  some  din- 
ner. 

3.  "  I  had  the  basket  on  my  arm,  and  was  just  going  out 
of  the  gate,  when  my  father  called  me  back.  He  took  hold 
of  my  hand  and  said  in  a  very  gentle  voice :  ^^  Joseph,  what 
are  you  going  for  — to  pick  berries,  or  to  playV  ^To 
pick  berries,'  I  said.  ^  Then  let  me  tell  you  one  thing : 
"When  you  find  a  pretty  good  bush,  do  not  leave  it  to  find 
a  better  one. 

4.  "  ^  The  other  boys  and  girls  will  run  about,  picking 
a  little  here  and  a  little  there,  wasting  a  great  deal  of  time 
and  not  getting  many  berries.  If  you  do  as  they  do,  you 
will  come  home  with  an  empty  basket.  If  you  want  ber- 
ries, stick  to  your  bush.' 

5.  "  I  went  with  the  rest,  and  we  had  a  fine  time.  But 
it  was  just  as  my  father  said.    No  sooner  had  one  found 


74  THE   CRANE   FOURTH   READER. 

a  good  bush  than  he  called  all  the  rest,  and  they  left 
their  several  places  and  ran  off  to  the  new-found  treasure. 

6.  "  Not  content  more  than  a  minute  or  two  in  one  place, 
they  rambled  over  the  whole  pasture,  got  very  tired,  and 
at  night  had  very  few  berries.  My  father's  words  kept 
ringing  in  my  ears,  and  I  ^  stuck  to  my  bush.'  When  I 
had  done  with  one  I  found  another,  and  finished  that; 
then  I  took  another. 

7.  "When  night  came,  I  had  a  large  basketful  of  nice 
berries,  more  than  all  the  others  put  together,  and  was  not 
half  so  tired  as  they  were.  I  went  home  happy.  But  when 
I  entered  I  found  my  father  had  been  taken  ill.  He  looked 
at  my  basketful  of  ripe  blackberries,  and  said,  ^  Well  done, 
Joseph.  Was  it  not  just  as  I  told  you?  Always  stick  to 
your  bush.' 

8.  "  He  died  in  a  few  days  after,  and  I  had  to  make  my 
way  in  the  world  as  best  I  could.  But  my  father's  words 
sank  deep  into  my  mind,  and  I  never  forgot  the  experience 
of  the  berry  party ;  I  ^  stuck  to  my  bush.' 

9.  "When  I  had  a  fair  place,  and  was  doing  tolerably 
well,  I  did  not  leave  it  and  spend  weeks  and  months  in 
finding  one  a  little  better.  When  other  young  men  said, 
'  Come  with  us,  and  we  will  make  our  fortune  in  a  few 
weeks,'  I  shook  my  head,  and  ^  stuck  to  my  bush.' 

10.  "  Soon  my  employers  offered  to  take  me  into  busi- 
ness with  them.  I  stayed  with  the  old  house  until  they 
died,  and  then  I  had  everything  I  wanted.  The  habit  of 
sticking  to  my  business  led  people  to  trust  me,  and  gave 
me  a  character.  I  owe  all  I  have  and  all  I  am  to  these 
words:   'Stick  to  your  bush.'" 

"  stick  to  your  bush."    What  does  it  mean? 


THE    CKANE    FOUKTH    KEADEK. 


75 


LESSOR  XXIII. 

ser'mon  stu^pid  fur'nage 

preached  re  lu^^tant  ra^di  a  tor 

(precht)  sawn'tered  de^po^ 

wim^bly  €Ock^k§  ro  man'ti« 

A   PLEASANT   INCIDENT. 

Louisa  M.  Alcott  (1832-1888)  was  a  lover 
of  children,  and  wrote  many  stories  for  young 
people.  She  served  as  hospital  nurse  in  Wash- 
ington two  years  during  the  Civil  War.  Her  best- 
known  books  are:  Little  Men,  Little  Women, 
Under  the  Lilacs,  and  An  Old-Fashioned  Girl. 

1.  Sitting  in  a  depot,  the  other  day, 
I  had  a  little  sermon  preached  in  the 
way  I  like ;  and  I  '11  tell  it  to  you  for 
your  good,  because  it  taught  one  of  the 
lessons  which  we  all  should  learn,  and 

taught  it  in  such  a  way  that  no  one  could  forget  it. 

2.  It  was  a  cold,  snowy  day,  the  train  was  late,  the 
ladies'  room  dark  and  smoky,  and  the  dozen  women,  old 
and  young,  who  sat  waiting,  all  looked  cross  or  stupid; 
I  was  sure  I  felt  both. 

3.  Just  then  a  poor  old  woman  came  in  with  a  basket 
of  small  things  to  sell,  and  went  about  offering  them  to  the 
people.  No  one  bought  anything,  and  the  poor  old  soul 
stood  at  the  door  a  minute,  as  if  reluctant  to  go  out  into 
the  hard  storm  again. 

4.  Soon  she  turned  and  sauntered  slowly  about  the 
room,  as  if  trying  to  find  something;  and  then  a  pale 
lady  in  black,  who  lay  as  if  asleep,  opened  her  eyes,  saw 


LOUISA   M.   ALCOTT. 


'?'6  THE   CKANE   FOUETH   READER. 

the  old  woman,  and  immediately  asked  in  a  kind  tone: 
^^Have  you  lost  anything,  ma'am!" 

5.  "  No,  dear.  I'm  looking  for  the  heatin'  place,  to  have 
a  warm  'fore  I  goes  out  again.  My  eyes  is  poor,  and  I 
don't  seem  to  find  the  furnace  nowhere." 

6.  "Here  it  is,"  and  the  lady  led  her  to  the  radiator, 
placed  a  chair,  and  showed  her  how  to  warm  her  feet. 

7.  "Well,  now,  isn't  that  nice!"  said  the  old  woman, 
spreading  her  ragged  mittens  to  dry.  "Thankee,  dear; 
this  is  proper  comfortable,  isn't  it!  I'm  'most  froze  to- 
day, bein'  lame  and  wimbly ;  and  not  selling  much  makes 
me  kind  of  downhearted." 

8.  The  lady  smiled,  bought  a  cup  of  tea  and  some  sort 
of  food,  carried  it  herself  to  the  old  woman,  and  said,  as 
respectfully  and  kindly  as  if  the  poor  woman  had  been 
dressed  in  silk,  "Won't  you  have  a  cup  of  hot  tea!  It's 
very  cheering  such  a  day  as  this." 

9.  " Sakes  alive!  do  they  give  tea  at  this  depot! "  cried 
the  old  lady,  in  a  tone  of  innocent  surprise  that  made  a 
smile  go  around  the  room,  touching  the  gloomiest  face  like 
a  line  of  sunlight.  "Well,  now,  this  is  just  nice,"  she 
added,  drinking  away  with  delight.  "This  does  warm 
the  cockles  of  my  heart ! " 

10.  While  she  refreshed  herself,  telling  her  story  mean- 
while, the  lady  looked  over  the  poor  little  goods  in  the 
basket,  bought  soap  and  pins,  shoestrings  and  tape,  and 
cheered  the  old  soul  by  paying  well  for  them. 

11.  As  I  watched  her  doing  this,  I  thought  what  a  sweet 
face  she  had,  though  I'd  thought  her  rather  plain  before. 
I  felt  very  much  ashamed  of  myself  that  I  had  shaken 
my  head  when  the  basket  was  offered  to  me;   and  as  I 


THE   CRANE  FOURTH  READER.  *t1 

saw  the  look  of  sympathy  come  into  the  dull  faces  all 
around  me,  I  did  wish  that  I  had  been  the  one  to  call  it 
out. 

12.  It  was  only  a  kind  word  and  a  friendly  act,  but 
somehow  it  brightened  that  dark  room  wonderfully.  It 
changed  the  faces  of  a  dozen  women,  and  I  think  it  touched 
a  dozen  hearts,  for  I  saw  many  eyes  follow  the  plain,  pale 
lady  with  sudden  respect;  and  when  the  old  woman  got 
up  to  go,  several  persons  bought  something,  as  if  they 
wanted  to  repair  their  first  negligence. 

13.  Old  beggar-women  are  not  romantic;  neither  are 
cups  of  tea,  boot-laces,  and  colored  soap.  There  were  no 
gentlemen  present  to  be  impressed  with  the  lady's  kind 
act,  so  it  was  not  done  for  effect,  and  no  possible  reward 
could  be  received  for  it  except  the  thanks  of  a  ragged  old 
woman. 

14.  But  that  simple  little  kindness  was  as  good  as  a 

sermon  to  those  who  saw  it,  and  I  think  each  one  went 

on  her  way  better  for  that  half -hour  in  the  gloomy  depot. 

I  know  one  of  them  did,  and  nothing  but  the  emptiness 

of  her  purse  prevented  her  from  "  comforting  the  cockles 

of  the  heart ''  of  every  poor  old  woman  she  met  for  a  week 

^^l-^^*  Louisa  M.  Alcott. 

Tell  of  some  kind  deed  you  have  witnessed  within  the  last  week. 
Was  there  a  sermon  in  it?    How? 


We  are   much   bound   to   them   that  do  succeed; 
But,  in  a  more  pathetic  sense,  are  bound 
To  such  as  fail.     They  all  our  loss  expound; 

They  comfort  us  for  work  that  will  not  speed, 
And   life  —  itself  a   failure. 


^ean   Ingelow. 


78 


THE   CRANE   FOURTH   READER. 


in  t^m^per  ange 
de  striie^tion 
tiir^bu  lenge 
Nl  ag^a  ra 
siif  fi^cient 
(fish'ent) 


lesso:n^  XXIV. 


ex  -eur^sion 
en  joy^ment 
warn'ing 
eon^fi  denge 
BM  ^fa  15 


tran'quil 

swear'ing 

plea§^ure 

fierg'er 

shriek^ing 


THE   POWER   OF   HABIT. 


JOHN   B.    GOUGH. 


John  Bartholomew  Gough  (1817-1886)  was 
born  at  Sandgate,  Kent,  England.  At  the  age 
of  12  he  came  to  America,  and  was  hired  out 
to  work  on  a  farm  in  New  York.  In  1831  he 
went  to  New  York  city,  where  he  learned  book- 
binding. But  he  became  such  a  drunkard  that 
he  lost  his  position.  When  he  was  in  the  depths 
of  poverty  and  degradation  a  kind  Quaker  per- 
suaded him  to  sign  the  pledge.  He  reformed, 
and  became  an  able  and  widely  known  temper- 
ance lecturer.  He  visited  England  in  1853,  when 
he  was  engaged  to  give  a  two-years  lecture  course 
in  Great  Britain.  In  1878  he  again  visited  Eng- 
land.   He  died  in  1886. 


1.  I  REMEMBER  once  when  riding  from  Buffalo  to  Niag- 
ara Falls  that  I  said  to  a  gentleman,  "  What  river  is  that, 
sir?" 

"That,"  said  he,  "is  Niagara  river." 

2.  "Well,  it  is  here  a  beautiful  and  tranquil  stream," 
said  I.    "How  far  off  are  the  rapids?" 

"  Only  a  mile  or  two,"  was  the  reply. 

3.  "  Is  it  possible  that  only  a  mile  from  us  we  shall  find 
the  water  in  the  turbulence  it  must  show  near  the  falls  1 " 


I 


THE  CHANE  FOURTH  READER.  79 

"  You  will  find  it  so,  sir."  And  so  I  found  it ;  and  the 
first  sight  of  Niagara  I  shall  never  forget. 

4.  Now  launch  your  bark  on  that  Niagara  river,  whose 
surface  is  so  bright  and  smooth  and  beautiful  and  glassy. 
There  is  a  ripple  at  the  bow;  the  silver  wake  you  leave 
behind  adds  to  your  enjoyment.  Down  the  stream  you  go, 
oars,  sails  and  helm  in  proper  trim,  as  you  set  out  on  your 
pleasure  excursion. 

5.  Suddenly  some  one  cries  out  from  the  bank,  "  Young 
men,  ahoy ! "    ' 

^^Whatisit?" 

"The  rapids  are  below!" 

6.  "  Ha !  ha ! "  you  laugh  back ;  "  we  have  heard  of  the 
rapids,  but  we  are  not  such  fools  as  to  get  there.  If  we 
go  too  fast,  then  we  shall  up  with  the  helm  and  steer  to  the 
shore ;  we  will  set  the  mast  in  its  place,  raise  the  sail,  and 
speed  to  the  land.  Then  on,  boys;  don't  be  frightened; 
there  is  no  danger." 

7.  The  boat  moves  swiftly  along,  while  hardly  a  ripple 
in  the  smooth  waters  tells  you  it  is  moving  down  the  stream. 
Soon  another  warning  call  reaches  you  from  the  shore : 

8.  "  Young  men,  ahoy  there ! " 
"What  is  it?" 

u  Tj\^^  rapids  are  below  you ! " 

9.  "  Ha !  ha ! "  you  shout  back  again.  "  We  will  laugh 
and  quaff ;  all  things  delight  us.  What  care  we  for  the  fu- 
ture !  No  man  ever  saw  it.  '  Sufficient  unto  the  day  is  the 
evil  thereof.'  Let  us  enjoy  life  while  we  may,  and  catch 
pleasure  as  it  flies.  This  is  enjoyment.  Time  enough  yet 
to  steer  out  of  danger." 


80  THE   CKANE   FOUKTH   READER. 

10.  And  so  full  of  joy  are  you,  that  you  do  not  know 
how  fast  the  current  is  carrying  you  onward  —  onward  — 
into  the  very  jaws  of  destruction!  Another  shout  reaches 
you  —  louder,  fiercer  than  before.    It  frightens  you. 

11.  '^Young  men,  ahoy!'' 
"What  is  it r' 

'^ Beware!    Beivare!    The  rapids  are  below !^^ 

12.  Now  you  see  the  water  foaming  all  around.  How 
fast  you  pass  that  point !  "  Up  with  the  helm ! "  Now  you 
turn!  you  pull  hard!  "Quick!  quick!  quick!  Pull  for 
your  lives,  men ! ''  Ah !  now  you  pull.  You  pull  till  the 
blood  starts  from  your  nostrils  and  the  veins  show  like 
whipcords  upon  your  brow !  "  Set  the  mast !  raise  the 
sail ! "  Ah !  ah !  it  is  too  late !  too  late !  Shrieking,  howl- 
ing, swearing,  over  you  go. 

13.  Young  men !  thousands  go  over  the  rapids  of  Intem- 
perance every  year,  just  in  this  way,  through  confidence 
in  themselves  and  the  power  of  habit,  crying  out  all  the 
while,  "When  I  find  that  temperate  drinking  is  hurting 
me,  I  will  give  it  up ! " 

John  B.  Gough. 
Where  is  the  Niagara  river? 

What  wonderful  natural  phenomena  on  this  river? 
Who  are  imagined  as  on  the  river? 
What  was  said  to  them  from  the  bank? 
What  did  the  young  men  say  in  reply  ? 

What  are  the  thoughts  in  the  tenth  and  twelfth  paragraphs  ? 
What  practical  lesson  is  in  this  selection? 


This   above  all  —  to  thine  own  self  be   true ; 
And  it   must  follow,  as  the  night  the  day, 
Thou  canst  not  then  be  false  to  any  man. 

— Shakespeare. 


i\ 


THE    CKANE   FOURTH   READER.  81 


LESSOIsT  XXY. 

weap'on  des  o  la'tion  li^M'nmg 

pn§^on  wan^der  er  gath^ered 

ven'omed  hllgWmg  trem'bling 

listening  throb'bing  sl'lenge 

WORDS. 

Adelaide  Anne  Procter  (1825-1864)  was  of  English  birth.  She  was 
a  frequent  contributor  to  the  Comhill  Magazine.  Her  poem,  The  Lost 
Chord,  is  her  best-known  production. 

1.  Words  are  lighter  than  the  cloud-foam 

Of  the  restless  ocean  spray; 
Vainer  than  the  trembling  shadow 

That  the  next  hour  steals  away. 
By  the  fall  of  summer  raindrops 

Is  the  air  as  deeply  stirred ; 
And  the  rose-leaf  that  we  step  on 

Will  outlive  a  word. 

2.  Yet,  on  the  dull  silence  breaking 

With  a  lightning-flash,  a  word, 
Bearing  endless  desolation 

On  its  blighting  wings,  I  heard. 
Earth  can  forge  no  keener  weapon, 

Dealing  surer  death  and  pain; 
And  the  cruel  echo  answered 

Through  long  years  again. 

3.  I  have  known  one  word  hang  star-like 

O'er  a  dreary  waste  of  years, 

—6 


THE    CKANE   FOtTRTH   REABEH. 

And  it  only  shone  the  brighter 

Looked  at  through  a  mist  of  tears : 

"While  a  weary  wanderer  gathered 
Hope  and  heart  on  life's  dark  way 

By  its  faithful  promise,  shining 
Clearer  day  by  day. 

I  have  known  a  spirit  calmer 

Than  the  calmest  lake,  and  clear 
As  the  heavens  that  gazed  upon  it, 

With  no  wave  of  doubt  or  fear ; 
But  a  storm  had  swept  across  it. 

And  its  deepest  depths  were  stirred, 
Never,  nevermore  to  slumber, 

Only  by  a  word. 

I  have  known  a  word  more  gentle 

Than  the  breath  of  summer  air; 
In  a  listening  heart  it  nestled. 

And  it  lives  forever  there. 
Not  the  beating  of  its  prison 

Stirred  it  ever,  night  or  day; 
Only  with  the  heart's  last  throbbing 

Could  it  fade  away. 

Words  are  mighty,  words  are  living! 

Serpents  with  their  venomed  stings, 
Or  bright  angels,  crowding  round  us. 

With  heaven's  light  upon  their  wings; 
Every  word  has  its  own  spirit. 

True  or  false,  that  never  dies ; 
Every  word  man's  lips  have  uttered 

Echoes  in  God's  skies.  Adelaide  a.  Procter. 


THE    CRANE   FOURTH   READER. 


83 


de  ter  mi  na^tion 
in  ter  pre  taction 
for  mari  tie§ 
ob  gerv^ang  e§ 


LESSO:^  XXVI. 

trans  ae^tion 
in  venation 
re  lig'ious 
soVemn  ly^ 


ex  per'i  ment 
dis  eour^aged 
€on  vie^tion 


i.  „- / 


per  se  vere 


CHARLES   DICKENS'S   LETTER  TO   HIS  SON. 


Chables  Dickens  (1812-1870)  was  born  in 
Hampshire,  England.  When  quite  a  young  man 
he  began  newspaper  work  on  the  staff  of  the 
Morning  Chronicle.  In  this  paper  appeared  his 
Sketches  hy  Boz.  Following  these  he  wrote  many 
novels.  The  most  noted  of  them  are:  David 
Copperfield,  Pickwick  Papers,  Bleak  House,  and 
Tale  of  Two  Cities.  Dickens  wrote  of  children 
and  child-life  with  great  power.  He  was  a  re- 
former, and  by  his  stories  he  tried  to  bring  about 
better  schools,  better  laws,  and  better  customs  in 
social  life. 


CHARLES   DICKENS. 


1.  I  WRITE  this  note  to  you  to-day  because  your  going 
away  is  much  upon  my  mind,  and  because  I  want  you  to 
have  a  few  parting  words  from  me  to  think  of  now  and 
then  at  quiet  times. 

2.  I  need  not  tell  you  that  I  love  you  dearly,  and  am 
very,  very  sorry  in  my  heart  to  part  with  you.  But  this 
life  is  half  made  up  of  partings,  and  these  pains  must  be 
borne. 

3.  It  is  my  comfort  and  my  sincere  conviction  that  you 
are  going  to  try  the  life  for  which  you  are  best  fitted.  I 
think  its  freedom  and  wildness  more  suited  to  you  than 
any  experiment  in  a  study  or  office  would  have  been ;  and 


84  The  crane  fourth  reader. 

without  that  training,  you  could  have  followed  no  other 
suitable  occupation. 

4.  What  you  have  always  wanted  until  now  has  been  a 
set,  steady,  constant  purpose.  I  therefore  exhort  you  to 
persevere  in  a  thorough  determination  to  do  whatever  you 
have  to  do  as  well  as  you  can  do  it. 

5.  I  was  not  so  old  as  you  are  now  when  I  first  had  to 
win  my  food,  and  to  do  it  out  of  this  determination ;  and 
I  have  never  slackened  in  it  since. 

6.  Never  take  a  mean  advantage  of  anyone  in  any  trans- 
action, and  never  be  hard  upon  people  who  are  in  your 
power. 

7.  Try  to  do  to  others  as  you  would  have  them  do  to 
you,  and  do  not  be  discouraged  if  they  fail  sometimes.  It 
is  much  better  for  you  that  they  should  fail  in  obeying  the 
greatest  rule  laid  down  by  our  Saviour  than  that  you 
should. 

8.  I  put  a  New  Testament  among  your  books  for  the 
very  same  reason,  and  with  the  very  same  hopes,  that 
made  me  write  an  easy  account  of  it  for  you  when  you 
were  a  little  child,  because  it  is  the  best  book  that  ever 
was,  or  ever  will  be  known  in  the  world,  and  because  it 
teaches  you  the  best  lessons  by  which  any  human  creature 
who  tries  to  be  truthful  and  faithful  to  duty  can  possibly 
be  guided. 

9.  As  your  brothers  have  gone  away,  one  by  one,  I 
have  written  to  each  such  words  as  I  am  now  writing  to 
you,  and  have  entreated  them  all  to  guide  themselves  by 
this  Book,  putting  aside  the  interpretations  and  inven- 
tions of  man.    You  will  remember  that  you  have  never  at 


THE    CEANE   EOUETH   KEADER.  85 

home  been  harassed  about  religious  observances  or  mere 
formalities. 

10.  I  have  always  been  anxious  not  to  weary  my  chil- 
dren with  such  things  before  they  are  old  enough  to  form 
opinions  respecting  them.  You  will  therefore  understand 
the  better  that  I  now  would  most  solemnly  impress  upon 
you  the  truth  and  beauty  of  the  Christian  religion  as  it 
came  from  Christ  himself,  and  the  impossibility  of  your 
going  far  wrong  if  you  humbly  but  heartily  respect  it. 

11.  Only  one  thing  more  on  this  head.  The  more  we 
are  in  earnest  as  to  feeling  it,  the  less  we  are  disposed  to 
hold  forth  about  it.  Never  abandon  the  wholesome  prac- 
tice of  saying  your  own  private  prayers,  night  and  morn- 
ing. I  have  never  abandoned  it  myself,  and  I  know  the 
comfort  of  it. 

12.  I  hope  you  will  always  be  able  to  say  in  after  life 

that  you  had  a  kind  father.    In  no  other  way  can  you  show 

your  affection  for  him  so  well,  or  make  him  so  happy,  as 

by  doing  your  duty. 

Chables  Dickens. 

What  are  some  of  the  best  things  that  Dickens  wrote  to  his  son? 
In  what  way  could  he  make  his  father  happy? 
What  did  he  say  of  the  book  he  gave  him? 


The  stars  shall  fade  away,  the  sun  himself 
Grow  dim  with  age,  and  nature  sink  in  years; 
But  thou  shalt  flourish  in  immortal  youth. 
Unhurt  amidst  the  war  of  elements. 
The  wreck  of  matter,  and  the  crush  of  worlds. 

— Addison, 


86  THE    CKANE    FOUKTH    READER. 

lesso:n'  xxvii. 


broods 

trod^den 

ben  e  die^tion 

trem^bks 

soVeian 

trans  form^ 

siirien 

pas^sion 

g^^ard'i  an 

ease^ments 

spa^ge§ 
THE    CHILDREN. 

this'rte-barb 

Richard  Realf  (1836-1878),  was  an  Englishman  by  birth,  but  American 
in  instinct.  He  spent  most  of  his  life  in  the  West.  He  wrote  charming  verse. 
He  was  widely  known  in  the  literary  world.  Realf  died  at  Oakland,  Califor- 
nia, October  28,  1878, 

1.  Do  YOU  love  me,  little  children? 

Oh,  sweet  blossoms  that  are  curled 
(Life's  tender  morning-glories!) 

'Round  the  casements  of  the  world, 
Do  your  hearts  climb  up  toward  me, 

As  my  one  heart  bends  to  you, 
In  the  beauty  of  your  dawning 

And  the  brightness  of  your  dew? 

2.  When  the  fragrance  of  your  faces. 

And  the  rhythm  of  your  feet, 
^  And  the  incense  of  your  voices, 

Transform  the  sullen  street,— 
Do  you  see  my  soul  move  softly 

Forever  where  you  move; 
With  an  eye  of  benediction 
And  a  guardian  hand  of  love? 

3.  Oh,  my  darlings,  I  am  with  you. 

In  your  trouble,  in  your  play; 


THE    CRANE    FOUETH    EEADER.  87 

In  your  sobbing  and  your  singing, 

In  your  dark  and  in  your  day ; 
In  the  chambers  where  you  nestle, 

In  the  hovels  where  you  lie ; 
In  the  sunlight  where  you  blossom. 

In  the  blackness  where  you  die. 

4.  Not  a  blessing  broods  above  you' 

But  it  lifts  me  from  the  ground ; 
Not  a  thistle-barb  doth  sting  you 

But  I  suffer  with  the  wound ; 
And  a  chord  within  me  trembles 

To  your  lightest  touch  or  tone. 
And  I  famish  when  you  hunger. 

And  I  shiver  when  you  moan. 

5.  I  have  trodden  all  the  spaces 

Of  my  solemn  years  alone; 
And  have  never  felt  the  cooing 

Of  a  babe's  breath  near  my  own, 
But  with  more  than  father-passion. 

And  with  more  than  mother-pain, 
I  have  loved  you,  little  children  — 

Do  you  love  me  back  again? 

ElCHARD     ReALF. 

Tell  about  Mr.  Eealf s  love  for  children. 

Tell  the  things  he  was  willing  to  do  for  them. 


Pointing  to  such,  well  might  Cornelia  say, 

When  the  rich  casket  shone  in  bright  array, 

"  These  are  my  jewels !  "     Well  of  such  as  he, 

When  Jesus  spake,  well  might  the  language  be, 

"  Suffer  these  little  ones  to  come  to  me !  "  — Rogers. 


88  THE    CRANE    FOURTH    READER. 

LESSO]^  XXVITI. 


Mi'das 

de  spa*r' 

vineyards 

Pae  to'liis 

parage 

bare'fdbt 

€6rn'field§ 

hiin'ger 

lad'der 

THE    STORY    OF    KING    MIDAS. 

1.  It  happened  once  upon  a  time  in  the  days  when  other 
beings  besides  men  and  animals  were  said  to  live  upon  the 
earth,  that  a  certain  king,  Midas,  did  a  kindness  to  one 
who  was  employed  as  a  servant  by  the  gods  of  the  vine- 
yards and  the  cornfields.  This  god,  hearing  of  it,  said  to 
King  Midas,  "  Ask  any  gift  you  choose ;  it  shall  be  yours.'' 

2.  "Grant  me,"  said  Midas,  "that  everything  I  touch 
shall  turn  to  gold." 

"  It  is  a  fool's  wish,"  said  the  god,  "  but  so  be  it.  Every- 
thing you  touch  shall  turn  to  gold." 

King  Midas  was  very  happy.  He  would  now  be  the 
richest  king  in  all  the  world.  He  opened  his  palace  door, 
and  lo !  the  door  became  gold.  He  touched  the  vines,  and 
they  were  golden  leaves  and  flowers.  He  touched  the  fruit, 
and  it  was  carved  in  gold. 

3.  He  went  from  room  to  room  touching  everything, 
till  his  house  was  furnished  in  gold.  He  climbed  upon  a 
ladder,  which  turned  to  gold  in  his  hands,  and  touched 
every  brick  and  stone  in  his  palace  till  all  was  pure  gold. 
His  cooks  boiled  water  in  golden  kettles,  and  swept  away 
golden  dust  with  golden  brooms. 

He  sat  down  to  dinner  in  a  golden  chair,  his  garments 
of  spun  gold,  and  his  plate  of  solid  gold,  and  the  table 
linen  cloth-of-gold. 


THE    CBANE    FOURTH    READER.  89 

4.  With  delight  at  the  richness  of  his  house  and  the 
riches  he  was  yet  to  gather,  Midas  helped  himself  from 
the  golden  dish  before  him.  But  suddenly  his  teeth  touched 
something  hard,  harder  than  bone.  Had  the  cook  put 
stones  into  his  food?  It  was  nothing  of  the  kind.  Alas! 
his  very  food,  as  soon  as  it  touched  his  lips,  turned  to  solid 
gold. 

5.  His  heart  sank  within  him,  while  the  meat  before  him 
mocked  his  hunger.  Then  was  the  richest  king  in  the 
world  to  starve?  A  horrible  fear  came  upon  him  as  he 
poured  out  drink  into  a  golden  cup,  and  the  cup  was  filled 
with  gold.    He  sat  in  despair. 

6.  What  was  he  to  do  1  Of  what  use  was  all  this  gold, 
if  he  could  not  buy  a  crust  of  bread  or  a  sip  of  water? 
The  poorest  plowman  would  now  be  richer  than  the  king. 
Poor  Midas  wandered  about  his  golden  palace,  the  dust 
becoming  gold  under  his  feet,  until  he  was  all  of  a  fever 
with  thirst,  and  weak  and  sick  with  hunger. 

At  last,  in  his  despair,  he  set  out  to  find  the  god  of  the 
cornfields  and  vineyards  again,  and  beg  him  to  take  back 
the  gift  of  gold.  By-and-by,  when  nearly  starved,  he 
found  the  god,  who  cried  to  him,  ^'  Ha !  Midas,  are  you  not 
content  yet  ?    Do  you  want  more  gold  ? " 

7.  "Gold!''  cried  Midas.  "I  hate  the  horrible  word. 
I  am  starving.  Make  me  the  poorest  man  in  the  whole 
world,  for  I  have  learned  that  a  mountain  of  gold  is  not 
worth  a  drop  of  dew.'' 

"I  will  take  back  my  gift,"  said  the  god.  "You  may 
wash  away  your  folly  in  the  first  river  that  you  come  to. 
Good-by;  only  don't  think  that  gold  is  not  a  good  thing, 
though  too  much  of  it  is  a  bad  thing." 


90  THE    CKANE    FOURTH    READER. 

8.  Midas  ran  to  the  river  Pactolus,  near  by.  He  threw 
off  his  golden  clothes  and  hurried,  barefoot,  over  the 
sands  of  the  river,  and  the  sand,  wherever  his  naked  feet 
touched  it,  turned  to  gold. 

When  he  came  from  the  water  the  terrible  power  of  the 
golden  touch  had  left  him.  He  had  learned  that  the  best 
thing  one  can  do  with  too  much  gold  is  to  give  it  away  as 
fast  as  one  can. 

The  golden  palace  is  gone  from  the  earth,  but  the  sand 
of  the  river  Pactolus  is  said  to  have  gold  in  it  to  this  day. 


LESSOI^  XXIX. 

en  gi  neer^  en^vel  ope  €rit^i  gi§m 

at  ten^tion  bat^tered  sar  cas^tie 

post^of  fige  con  tin^ued  worst^edg 

€on  trlv^ange  en  thu'§i  a§m  fa^moiis 

THE   ENGINEER   AND   HIS   LITTLE   FRIENDS. 

1.  Jack,  Gertie  and  Trip  used  to  play  by  the  side  of  the 
railroad.  Each  day,  when  the  four  o'clock  train  rushed 
by  their  home,  the  three  children  and  Lillo,  the  dog,  hur- 
ried through  the  gate  by  the  well,  and  stood  watching  the 
train  as  long  as  they  could  see  it. 

2.  The  engineer  soon  began  to  notice  them.  One  day 
he  threw  a  daily  paper  at  their  feet.  They  were  wild  with 
delight  at  this  attention,  which  was  kept  up  until  the  chil- 
dren's paper  was  as  much  expected  as  their  father's  daily. 
Jack  began  to  think  of  returning  this  kindness. 


THE   CKANE   FOURTH   READER.  91 

3.  By-and-by,  when  the  time  came,  Jack  crept  around 
under  the  window,  and  asked  Gertie  and  Trip  to  come  out, 
which  they  were  not  slow  to  do.  "Want  to  see  the  new 
postoffice  begin?    Come  on,  then.'' 

4.  He  strutted  through  the  gate  and  took  up  a  long  pole 
that  lay  in  the  grass  on  the  railroad  bank.  "Now,  you 
see,"  he  began  to  explain  to  his  anxious  listeners,  "  here 's 
a  contrivance  that  I  'm  going  to  take  out  a  patent  for.  See 
this  crack!    Well,  here's  this  letter  I  put  in  here—" 

5.  "Where's  the  letter  going?"  asked  Gertie. 

"  It 's  to  the  engineer.  I  '11  read  it  to  you ; "  and  he  took 
it  out  of  the  envelope  very  carefully  with  his  brown,  bat- 
tered little  hands,  and  read : 

6.  ^^ 'Dear  Mr.  Waterman:  We  are  very  much  obliged 
to  you  for  throwing  us  out  a  paper  every  day.  We  would 
like  to  give  you  something.  We  are  going  to  give  you  some 
apples.  If  you  will  catch  this  letter  to-day,  we  will  give 
you  some  apples  to-morrow  in  a  basket,  if  you  can  catch 
them.  I  will  hold  them  up  high.  I  thank  you  very  much 
for  the  paper.  So  do  Gertie  and  Trip.  Gertie  and  Trip 
are  the  girls.  I  am  the  boy.  Gertie  is  the  big  one.  I  am 
bigger  than  Gertie.  The  dog's  name  is  Lillo.  I  wrote  the 
letter.    Yours  affectionately,  Jack  " 

7.  "  Now,  don't  you  think  that  letter  '11  do  the  business. 
Miss  Gertie?" 

"  Oh,  I  think  it  is  a  beautiful  letter,"  broke  in  Trip. 

8.  "  Now,  you  see,"  continued  Jack,  "  I  stick  ^:he  letter 
in  the  crack  here,  so,  and  then  I  stand  down  on  the  bank, 
here"— and  he  picked  his  way  down  the  steep  gravel  bank 
— "  and  I  hold  the  pole  out,  and  the  engineer  comes  along. 


92  THE   CRANE   FOURTH   READER. 

and  lie  sees  something,  and  runs  out  his  arm  and  grabs 
the  pole,—  and  there  you  are!" 

9.  "But  how  is  the  engineer  going  to  see  you?" 
"With  eyes,  just  as  he  always  does." 

"  But  I  don't  believe  he  will  know  what  you  want  with 
your  pole ;  I  'm  sure  I  shouldn't." 

10.  "  Now,  there ! "  cried  Jack,  climbing  up  to  the  top 
of  the  bank,  "there's  the  difference.  A  man  has  brains, 
you  see,  and  a  girl  hasn't.  If  I  have  sense  to  make  this 
up,  don't  you  suppose  a  man  has  sense  enough  to  see  when 
it  is  pushed  into  his  face  1 " 

11.  "Well,  you  see—"  replied  Gertie. 

"Well,  you  see,"  said  Jack,  a  little  angry  at  Gertie's 
lack  of  enthusiasm.  He  had  called  his  sisters  out  to  ad- 
mire, not  to  criticise. 

12.  But  Trip  made  up  for  Gertie's  criticism  by  her  own 
great  faith.  She  had  no  doubts.  "  Why,  I  could  do  it  my- 
self, just  as  easy!  I  should  know  in  a  minute  'twas  a 
letter." 

13.  Soon  the  black  spot  was  seen  far  off.  It  came 
nearer ;  it  stopped  at  the  station ;  it  started  again,  "  Kchuh ! 
—  Kchuh !  —  Kchuh ! "  and  Jack  took  his  stand,  his  feet 
firmly  planted  in  the  gravel. 

14.  The  engine  came  roaring  round  the  curve.  The  en- 
gineer waved  his  paper.  Jack  waved  his  letter.  He  was 
understood  at  once.  The  engineer  was  a  stout,  heavy  man, 
but  the  fireman  was  smaller.  He  held  on  with  one  hand, 
and  swung  out  on  the  side  toward  the  children. 

15.  Jack  turned  so  as  to  have  his  letter  pointing  the 
same  way  as  the  engine,  and  the  fireman  flew  by,  taking 


THE    CHANE   FOURTH   EEADEH.  93 

pole,  letter,  and  all,  as  easily  as  you  would  pick  up  a  stick. 
It  was  all  done  in  a  second. 

16.  Jack  climbed  up  the  bank,  his  face  red  with  excite- 
ment and  triumph.  "Words  were  too  weak  to  make  known 
his  joy.  He  nodded  at  Gertie.  She  had  nothing  to  say  for 
herself  this  time.  They  went  into  the  house  to  tell  their 
parents  about  it.  Before  this.  Jack  had  not  thought  proper 
to  take  them  into  his  confidence. 

17.  "  Now,''  said  Jack,  hero  and  knight  by  what  he  had 
done,  "I  suppose  you  know  the  next  thing  is  to  get  the 
apples  ready  for  to-morrow." 

"  Yes,"  said  papa ;  "  and  as  you  have  only  twenty-four 
hours  to  do  it  in,  you  ought  to  begin  at  once." 

18.  But  Jack  was  in  too  high  spirits  to  be  "taken 
down  "  by  any  sarcastic  words,  and  he  immediately  began 
to  look  for  a  basket.  Gertie  and  Trip  were  sent  hunting 
in  every  direction.  "  Girls  can't  do  much,"  said  Jack, 
"  but  you  can  run  upstairs  and  down ;  that  is  something." 

19.  And  when  treasures  of  worsteds,  and  pieces,  and  all 
kinds  of  things  had  been  emptied  on  floors,  beds  and  ta- 
bles, Jack  found  a  basket  that  suited  him  —  a  strong,  white 
basket  with  a  handle  —  and  into  the  cellar  they  went,  climb- 
ing among  the  apple-bins,  picking  out  the  reddest  and 
soundest  and  juiciest  of  the  early  apples. 

20.  But  draw  out  the  time  as  long  as  they  could,  it  did 
not  take  long.  "And  oh,  it  seems  as  if  it  never  would  be 
to-morrow  at  four  o'clock ! "  sighed  Trip. 

21.  But  to-morrow  came,  and  four  o'clock  came,  and  the 
Boston  train  came,  and  this  time  the  fireman  had  climbed 
out  along  the  —  something  —  I  don't  know  what  they  call 


94  THE   CRAKE   FOURTH   READER. 

it,  but  I  dare  say  all  you  boys  do  —  that  long  iron  at  the 
side  of  the  engine. 

22.  And  there  he  was  sitting  on  some  little  point  or 
other  in  front  of  the  engine,  from  which  if  he  had  fallen 
—well,  it  would  not  have  been  very  pleasant.  But  there 
he  sat  and  clung,  till  he  had  run  his  arm  through  the  handle 
of  the  basket  which  Jack  held  on  another  pole,  and  then  he 
crept  back  like  a  fly,  and  not  an  apple  was  dropped. 

23.  This  was  done  several  times,  the  returning  train 
tossing  out  the  empty  basket,  till  it  began  to  be  famous. 
And  once,  as  the  train  came  near,  there  was  an  unusual 
stir.  The  platforms  of  the  cars  were  crowded  with  men. 
The  windows  were  thrown  up  and  filled  with  faces. 

24.  Whether  it  was  that  the  unusual  excitement  made 
Jack's  hand  tremble,  or  whether  the  strain  was  too  great 
upon  the  fireman,  I  don't  know ;  but  for  the  first  time,  the 
basket  was  knocked  instead  of  taken.  Out  went  every 
hateful  little  apple,  dancing  under  the  wheels,  rolling  into 
the  ditch,  everywhere  save  where  they  should  have  gone ; 
and  there  was  great  sorrow. 

25.  I  suppose  it  was  thought  to  be  too  dangerous,  for 
after  that  there  was  no  more  traffic  in  apples. 

What  do  you  like  best  in  this  story?     Why? 


Kindness  is   wisdom.     There   is   none   in   life 

But  needs  it  and  may  learn.  — Bailey. 

That  best  portion  of  a  good  man's  life. 

His  little,  nameless,  unremembered  acts 

Of  kindness  and  of  love.  — Wordsworth. 


THE   CRANE   FOURTH   READER.  95 


LESSON  XXX. 

vig^ion  a€  €6rd^  ex  Qeed'ing 

•■ 

cheer^i  ly  wak^en  ing  A'hou 

ABOU    BEN   ADHEM. 

James  Henry  Leigh  Hunt  ( 1784-1859),  poet  and  critic,  was  an  English- 
man. He  was  educated  at  Christ's  Hospital.  He  was  once  put  into  prison 
for  two  years,  for  writing  a  criticism  on  the  prince  regent.  But  he  dec- 
orated his  prison-bars  with  flowers,  and  was  very  happy.  He  wrote  many 
poems,  was  always  of  a  cheerful  disposition,  and  his  writings  gleam  with 
sunshine. 

Abou  Ben  Adhem  —  may  his  tribe  increase!  — 
Awoke  one  night  from  a  deep  dream  of  peace, 

And  saw,  within  the  moonlight  in  his  room, 
Making  it  rich,  and  like  a  lily  in  bloom. 

An  angel,  writing  in  a  book  of  gold. 
Exceeding  peace  had  made  Ben  Adhem  bold. 

And  to  the  Presence  in  the  room  he  said, 

"What  writest  thou?"    The  vision  raised  its  head. 

And,  with  a  look  made  all  of  sweet  accord, 
Answered,  "  The  names  of  those  who  love  the  Lord." 

"And  is  mine  one?"  said  Abou.    "Nay,  not  so," 
Replied  the  angel.    Abou  spoke  more  low. 

But  cheerily  still ;  and  said,  "  I  pray  thee,  then. 
Write  me  as  one  that  loves  his  fellow-men." 


96  THE   CRANE   FOURTH  READER. 

The  angel  wrote,  and  vanished.    The  next  night 
It  came  again,  with  a  great  wakening  light, 

And  showed  the  names  whom  love  of  God  had  bless'd ; 
And  lo !  Ben  Adhem's  name  led  all  the  rest. 

Leigh  Hunt. 
Question:    Why  should  his  name  lead  all  the  rest? 


LESSON  XXXI. 

mim^ie  im^i  ta  ting  ben^e  fit 

an  i  ma^tion  per  form^ang  e§  tim^id 

eov^ey  pig^eon  eon^gert 

THE    MOCKING-BIRD. 

1.  In  the  woods  of  the  Southern  States  the  mocking- 
bird is  at  home.  There  he  sings  a  song  richer  and  sweeter 
than  the  prisoner  in  the  golden  cage  ever  cared  to  sing.  In 
the  soft  and  balmy  air  of  his  own  forests  the  free  bird 
charms  and  puzzles  all  that  listen  to  him.  He  can  call 
other  birds  to  him  by  imitating  the  voices  of  their  mates, 
and  he  can  frighten  them  away  by  screaming  like  an  eagle. 

2.  Is  he  not  well  named?  The  long  Latin  name  by  which 
learned  men  call  him  means  the  '^  mimic  that  understands 
many  languages.''  The  rest  of  the  thrush  family  —  the 
Northern  branch  —  sing  in  their  own  language  only,  but 
their  clear,  mellow  voices  are  as  strong  and  sweet  as  the 
mocking-bird's.     Indeed,  many  persons  think  that  the 


THE    CEANE    FOURTH    READER.  97 

wood-thrusli  of  the  Northern  and  the  Middle  States  is  a 
more  pleasing  songster  than  his  Southern  relation. 

3.  Wandering  through  a  pine  forest  in  Carolina,  we  may 
hear  the  whistle  of  the  redbird,  the  call  of  the  jay;,  the  mew 
of  the  catbird,  and  the  shrill  cry  of  the  woodpecker,  as  if 
the  feathered  tribe  were  giving  a  concert  for  the  benefit  of 
the  trees  and  the  flowers  around.  And,  behold !  one  little 
mocking-bird  brimful  of  mischief  and  song  is  the  sole  per- 
former. While  we  listen  and  wonder,  the  plaintive  cry, 
•^  Whippoorwill !  whippoorwill ! ''  gives  us  another  sur- 
prise. We  know  that  the  whippoorwill  never  comes  out  in 
broad  daylight  if  not  forced  to  do  so ;  yet  here  are  the  clear 
notes  ringing  through  the  forest,  and  the  sun  is  still  high  in 
the  heavens. 

4.  We  look  around  to  see  what  it  all  means,  and  we  find 
out  the  secret.  While  the  redbird,  the  jay,  and  the  rest  of 
the  feathered  tribe,  deceived  by  the  voices  they  have  heard, 
hasten  away,  anxious  to  know  why  they  have  been  called, 
we  discover  the  cause  of  the  alarm.  In  a  low  bush  near  by, 
a  mocking-bird  has  been  practicing  his  skill,  perhaps  to 
startle  his  timid  neighbors. 

5.  As  if  pleased  at  the  result  of  his  music,  he  darts  out 
from  his  hiding-place  and  perches  on  a  branch  within 
sight,  sweeping  his  long  tail  from  side  to  side,  spreading 
his  wings,  and  stretching  his  neck  in  all  directions,  satisfied 
with  himself  and  proud  of  his  marvelous  performances. 
''  Is  there  a  songster  in  the  world  like  me ! ''  says  the  de- 
lighted little  creature  —  in  actions,  if  not  in  words.  Who 
knows  icliat  he  says  to  ears  that  understand  the  language 
of  his  family? 


98 


THE   CRANE   EOUHTH   HEADEH. 


6.  But  the  singer,  satisfied  as  lie  seems,  has  not  finished 
his  work.  In  a  minute  he  begins  again,  giving  us  the  fine 
sweet  notes  of  the  mocking-bird's  own  melody,  to  show 
that  he  has  a  song  better  than  all  that  he  imitates;  then 
the  little  mimic  returns  to  his  mocking  music,  and  calls 
out,  with  animation,  ''Bob  White!  Bob  White!"  driving 
poor  Bob  White  in  wonder  to  his  covey.  There  is  a  sudden 
change,  and  the  wild  scream  of  the  pigeon-hawk  fills  the 
air.  As  this  cry  dies  away,  the  soft  tender  warble  of  some 
sweet  forest-singer  falls  upon  the  ear;  the  melody  swells 
higher  and  higher,  until  in  one  mocking-bird's  song  are 
mingled  the  ringing  tones  of  the  brown  thrush,  the  gentle 
notes  of  the  wood-thrush,  the  clear  warble  of  the  robin, 
and,  in  fact,  the  voices  of  a  whole  choir  of  woodland  song- 
sters. 

7.  So  the  concert  goes  on,  although  the  twilight  is  steal- 
ing upon  us.  The  pale  moon  is  in  the  eastern  sky,  and  in  a 
little  while  the  dim  forest-aisles  will  catch  the  splendor  of 
the  moonlight.  But  the  mocking-bird  sings  on,  as  if  that 
wonderful  voice  of  his  needed  no  rest.  Perhaps,  when  the 
moon  sets,  he  will  go  to  his  nest  and  be  still  for  a  time; 
but  not  yet  —  not  yet! 

8.  Do  you  know  that  this  little  creature  can  fight  as  well 
as  sing?  Sometimes,  when  he  is  watching  by  the  nest  in 
which  his  mate  is  sitting,  he  hears  a  rustling  among  the 
leaves  at  the  foot  of  the  tree ;  and  he  knows  that  his  enemy 
the  snake  is  coming  to  rob  the  nest  and  to  make  a  dainty 
meal  of  the  eggs  or  the  young  birds.  The  mocking-bird 
darts  upon  the  robber-snake  in  a  perfect  fury,  and,  keeping 


THE   CRANE   FOURTH   READER.  99 

out  of  the  way  of  his  fangs,  pecks  at  his  head  and  eyes  with 
such  force  as  to  drive  him  away. 

9.  Indeed,  the  snake  seldom  escapes;  for  the  enraged 
bird  follows  him,  and  in  most  cases  ends  the  battle  by 
leaving  the  enemy  dead  upon  the  ground.  Then  you  should 
"  listen  to  the  mocking-bird  " !  He  flies  back  to  the  tree  — 
the  brave  little  warrior!  —  and  from  the  highest  branch 
pours  forth  a  ringing  song,  as  if  in  thanksgiving  for  the 
victory. 

What  is  meant  by  imitating? 
How  does  the  mocking-bird  fight? 


No  matter  what  his  rank  or  position  may  be,  the  lover  of  books  is 
the  richest  and  happiest  of  the  children  of  men.  Langford. 

The  first  time  I  read  an  excellent  book,  it  seems  to  me  just  as  if  I  had 
gained  a  new  friend;  when  I  read  over  a  book  I  have  perused  before,  it 
resembles  the  meeting  with  an  old  one.  Goldsmith. 

Half  the  gossip  of  society  would  perish  if  the  books  that  are  truly  worth 
reading  were  but  read.  Dawson. 

What  is  twice  read  is  commonly  better  remembered  than  what  is  tran- 
scribed. Samuel  Johnson. 

The  man  who  is  fond  of  books  is  usually  a  man  of  lofty  thought  and  of 
elevated  opinions.  Dawson. 


100 


THE    CKANE    FOURTH    READER. 


mass  ive 
or^na  ments 


LESSON   XXXII. 

ar^eM  te€ts  in  eom  plete^  se  eme' 

stairVa^/s  tilr^rets 

as  Qend'mg  .  boundless 

THE   BUILDERS. 

1.  All  are  architects  of  Fate, 
Working  in  these  walls  of  Time ; 

Some  with  massive  deeds  and  great, 
Some  with  ornaments  of  rhyme. 

2.  Nothing  useless  is,  or  low; 
Each  thing  in  its  place  is  best; 

And  what  seems  but  idle  show 
Strengthens  and  supports  the  rest. 

3.  For  the  structure  that  we  raise. 
Time  is  with  materials  filled; 

Our  to-days  and  yesterdays 
Are  the  blocks  with  which  we  build. 


Truly  shape  and  fashion  these; 

Leave  no  yawning  gaps  between 
Think  not,  because  no  man  sees, 

Such  thinsrs  will  remain  unseen. 


5.   In  the  elder  days  of  Art, 

Builders  wrought  with  unseen  care 
Each  minute  and  unseen  part; 
For  the  gods  see  everywhere. 


THE    CRANE   FOURTH   READER.  101 

6.  Let  US  do  our  work  as  well, 

Both  the  unseen  and  the  seen; 
Make  the  house  where  gods  may  dwell 
Beautiful,  entire,  and  clean. 

7.  Else  our  lives  are  incomplete, 

Standing  in  these  walls  of  Time  — 
Broken  stairways,  where  the  feet 
Stumble  as  they  seek  to  climb. 

8.  Build  to-day,  then,  strong  and  sure, 

With  a  firm  and  ample  base ; 
And,  ascending  and  secure. 
Shall  to-morrow  find  its  place. 

9.  Thus  alone  can  we  attain 

To  those  turrets,  where  the  eye 
Sees  the  world  as  one  vast  plain. 
And  one  boundless  reach  of  sky. 

Heney  W.  Longfellow. 


LESSON  XXXIIL 

hea'then§  prov^m^e  proph^et  es5  e§ 

ig^no  rant  slmgh' ter  com^pli  ment 

non^sense  gyp^sie§  pre  tend'ing 

THE    TALE    OF    MACBETH. 

PART    I. 

1.  Soon  after  the  Scots  and  Picts  had  become  one  peo- 
ple, as  I  told  you  before,  there  was  a  King  of  Scotland 
called  Duncan,  a  very  good  old  man.  He  had  two  sons; 
one  was  called  Malcolm,  and  the  other  Donaldbane.    But 


102  THE    CRANE    FOURTH    READER. 

King  Duncan  was  too  old  to  lead  out  liis  army  to  battle, 
and  his  two  sons  were  too  young  to  help  him. 

2.  At  this  time  Scotland,  and  indeed  France  and  Eng- 
land, and  all  the  other  countries  of  Europe,  were  much 
harassed  by  the  Danes.  These  were  a  very  fierce,  warlike 
people,  who  sailed  from  one  place  to  another,  and  landed 
their  armies  on  the  coast,  burning  and  destroying  every- 
thing wherever  they  came.  They  were  heathens,  and  did 
not  believe  in  the  Bible,  but  thought  of  nothing  but  battle 
and  slaughter,  and  making  plunder.  When  they  came  to 
countries  where  the  inhabitants  were  cowardly,  they  took 
possession  of  the  land,  as  I  told  you  the  Saxons  took  pos- 
session of  Britain.  At  other  times,  they  landed  with  their 
soldiers,  took  what  spoil  they  could  find,  burned  the  houses, 
and  then  got  on  board,  hoisted  sails,  and  away  again. 
They  did  so  much  mischief  that  people  put  up  prayers  to 
God  in  the  churches,  to  deliver  them  from  the  rage  of  the 
Danes. 

3.  Now,  it  happened  in  King  Duncan's  time  that  a 
great  fleet  of  these  Danes  came  to  Scotland  and  landed  their 
men  in  Fife,  and  threatened  to  take  possession  of  that 
province.  So  a  numerous  Scottish  army  was  levied  to  go 
to  fight  against  them.  The  King,  as  I  told  you,  was  too 
old  to  command  his  army,  and  his  sons  were  too  young.  He 
therefore  sent  out  one  of  his  near  relations,  who  was  called 
Macbeth ;  he  was  son  of  Finel,  who  was  Thane,-  as  it  was 
called,  of  Glammis.  The  governors  of  provinces  were  at 
that  time,  in  Scotland,  called  thanes ;  they  were  afterward 
termed  earls. 

4.  This  Macbeth,  who  was  a  brave  soldier,  put  himself 
at  the  head  of  the  Scottish  army,  and  inarched  against  the 
Danes.    And  he  carried  with  him  a  relation  of  his  own. 


THE    CKANE    FOURTH    READER.  103 

called  Banquo,  who  was  Thane  of  Lochaber,  and  was  also  a 
very  brave  man.  So  there  was  a  great  battle  fought  be- 
tween the  Danes  and  the  Scots ;  and  Macbeth  and  Banquo, 
the  Scottish  generals,  defeated  the  Danes,  and  drove  them 
back  to  their  ships,  leaving  a  great  many  of  their  soldiers 
both  killed  and  wounded.  Then  Macbeth  and  his  army 
marched  back  to  a  town  in  the  north  of  Scotland,  called 
Forres,  rejoicing  on  account  of  their  victory. 

5.  Now  there  lived  at  this  time  three  old  women  in  the 
town  of  Forres,  whom  people  looked  upon  as  witches,  and 
supposed  they  could  tell  what  was  to  come  to  pass.  Nobody 
would  believe  such  folly  nowadays,  except  low  and  ig- 
norant creatures,  such  as  those  who  consult  gypsies  in 
order  to  have  their  fortunes  told ;  but  in  those  early  times 
the  people  were  much  more  ignorant,  and  even  great  men, 
like  Macbeth,  believed  that  such  persons  as  these  witches 
of  Forres  could  tell  what  was  to  come  to  pass  afterward, 
and  listened  to  the  nonsense  they  told  them,  as  if  the  old 
women  had  really  been  prophetesses.  The  old  women  saw 
that  they  were  respected  and  feared,  so  that  they  were 
tempted  to  impose  upon  people,  by  pretending  to  tell  what 
was  to  happen  to  them ;  and  they  got  presents  for  doing  so. 

6.  So  the  three  old  women  went  and  stood  by  the  way- 
side, in  a  great  moor  or  heath  near  Forres,  and  waited  till 
Macbeth  came  up.  And  then,  stepping  before  him  as  he 
was  marching  at  the  head  of  his  soldiers,  the  first  woman 
said,  ^^All  hail,  Macbeth  —  hail  to  thee.  Thane  of  Glammis." 
The  second  said,  ''All  hail,  Macbeth  — hail  to  thee.  Thane 
of  Cawdor.''  Then  the  third,  wishing  to  pay  him  a  higher 
compliment  than  the  other  two,  said,  "All  hail,  Macbeth, 
that  shalt  be  King  of  Scotland."  Macbeth  was  very  much 
surprised  to  hear  them  give  him  these  titles ;  and  while  he 


104 


THE    CEANE    FOURTH    READER. 


was  wondering  what  they  could  mean,  Banqno  stepped  for- 
ward, and  asked  them  whether  they  had  nothing  to  tell 
about  him  as  well  as  about  Macbeth.  And  they  said  that 
he  should  not  be  so  great  as  Macbeth,  but  that,  though  he 
himself  should  never  be  a  king,  yet  his  children  should  suc- 
ceed to  the  throne  of  Scotland,  and  be  kings  for  a  great 
number  of  years. 


ruf^fian  (yan) 
sov^er  eign 
ret'i  nue 


lesso:n^  XXXIV. 

as  sist^auQe 
ac  com^plished 
king^man 


gov'ern  ment 
proph^e  QY 
bar^bar  oils  (ber) 


THE    TALE    OF    MACBETH. 
PART  II. 

1.  Before  Macbeth  recovered  from  his  surprise,  there 
came  a  messenger  to  tell  him  that  his  father  was  dead,  so 
that  he  was  become  Thane  of  Glammis  by  inheritance. 
And  there  came  a  second  messenger,  from  the  King,  to 
thank  Macbeth  for  the  great  victory  over  the  Danes,  and 
tell  him  that  the  Thane  of  Cawdor  had  rebelled  against  the 
King,  and  that  the  King  had  taken  his  office  from  him, 
and  had  sent  to  make  Macbeth  Thane  of  Cawdor  as  well 
as  of  Glammis.  Thus  the  first  two  old  women  seemed  to 
be  right  in  giving  him  those  two  titles.  I  dare  say  they 
knew  something  of  the  death  of  Macbeth's  father,  and  that 
the  government  of  Cawdor  was  intended  for  Macbeth, 
though  he  had  not  heard  of  it. 

2.  However,  Macbeth,  seeing  a  part  of  their  words  come 
to  be  true,  began  to  think  how  he  was  to  bring  the  rest  to 
pass,  and  make  himself  king,  as  well  as  Thane  of  Glammis 
and  Cawdor.    Now  Macbeth  had  a  wife,  who  was  a  very 


THE    CRANE    FOURTH    READER.  105 

ambitious,  wicked  woman,  and  when  she  found  out  that 
her  husband  thought  of  raising  himself  up  to  be  King  of 
Scotland,  she  encouraged  him  in  his  wicked  purpose,  by  all 
the  means  in  her  power,  and  persuaded  him  that  the  only 
way  to  get  possession  of  the  crown  was  to  kill  the  good  old 
King  Duncan.  Macbeth  was  very  unwilling  to  commit  so 
great  a  crime,  for  he  knew  what  a  good  sovereign  Duncan 
had  been ;  and  he  recollected  that  he  was  his  relation,  and 
had  been  always  very  kind  to  him,  and  had  intrusted  him 
with  the  command  of  his  army,  and  had  bestowed  on  him 
the  government  or  thanedom  of  Cawdor.  But  his  wife  con- 
tinued telling  him  what  a  foolish,  cowardly  thing  it  was  in 
him  not  to  take  the  opportunity  of  making  himself  King, 
when  it  was  in  his  power  to  gain  what  the  witches  promised 
him.  So  the  wicked  advice  of  his  wife,  and  the  prophecy  of 
those  wretched  old  women,  at  last  brought  Macbeth  to  think 
of  murdering  his  King  and  his  friend.  The  way  in  which 
he  accomplished  his  crime  made  it  still  more  abominable. 
3.  Macbeth  invited  Duncan  to  come  to  visit  him,  at  a 
great  castle  near  Inverness ;  and  the  good  King,  who  had 
no  suspicions  of  his  kinsman,  accepted  the  invitation  very 
willingly.  Macbeth  and  his  lady  received  the  King  with 
all  his  retinue  with  much  appearance  of  joy,  and  made  a 
great  feast,  as  a  subject  would  do  to  make  his  King  wel- 
come. About  the  middle  of  the  night  the  King  desired  to 
go  to  his  apartment,  and  Macbeth  conducted  him  to  a  fine 
room  which  had  been  prepared  for  him.  Now,  it  was  the 
custom,  in  those  barbarous  times,  that  wherever  the  King 
slept,  two  armed  men  slept  in  the  same  chambof ,  in  order 
to  defend  his  person  in  case  he  should  be  attacked  by  any 
one  during  the  night.  But  the  wicked  Lady  Macbeth  had 
made  these  two  watchmen  drink  a  great  deal  of  wine,  and 


106  THE    CKA.NE    FOUKTH    HEADER. 

had  besides  put  some  drugs  into  the  liquor ;  so  that  when 
they  went  to  the  King's  apartment  they  both  fell  asleep, 
and  slept  so  soundly  that  nothing  could  awaken  them. 

4.  Then  the  cruel  Macbeth  came  into  King  Duncan's 
bedroom  about  two  in  the  morning.  It  was  a  terribly 
stormy  night ;  but  the  noise  of  the  wind  and  of  the  thunder 
did  not  awaken  the  King,  for  he  was  old,  and  weary  with 
his  journey;  neither  could  it  awaken  the  two  sentinels, 
who  were  stupefied  with  the  liquor  and  the  drugs  they  had 
swallowed.  They  all  slept  soundly.  So  Macbeth  having 
come  into  the  room,  and  stepped  gently  over  the  floor, 
stabbed  poor  old  King  Duncan  to  the  heart,  so  that  he  died 
without  giving  even  a  groan. 

5.  When  Malcolm  and  Donaldbane,  the  two  sons  of  the 
good  King,  saw  their  father  slain  within  Macbeth's  castle, 
they  became  afraid  that  they  might  be  put  to  death  like- 
wise, and  fled  away  out  of  Scotland.  Donaldbane  fled  into 
some  distant  islands,  but  Malcolm,  the  eldest  son  of  Dun 
can,  went  to  the  Court  of  England,  where  he  begged  for 
assistance  from  the  English  King,  to  place  him  on  the 
throne  of  Scotland  as  his  father's  successor. 

6.  In  the  meantime,  Macbeth  took  possession  of  the 
kingdom  of  Scotland,  and  thus  all  his  wicked  wishes 
seemed  to  be  fulfilled.  But  he  was  not  happy.  He  began 
to  reflect  how  wicked  he  had  been  in  killing  his  friend  and 
benefactor,  and  how  some  other  person,  as  ambitious  as  he 
was  himself,  might  do  the  same  thing  to  him.  He  remem- 
bered, too,  that  the  old  woman  had  said  that  the  children 
of  Banquo  should  succeed  to  the  throne  after  his  death, 
and  therefore  he  concluded  that  Banquo  might  be  tempted 
to  conspire  against  him,  as  he  had  himself  done  against 
King  Duncan.    The  wicked  always  think  other  people  are 


THE    CKANE    FOURTH    READEE.  107 

as  bad  as  themselves.  In  order  to  prevent  this  supposed 
danger,  Macbeth  hired  ruffians  to  watch  in  a  wood,  where 
Banquo  and  his  son  Fleance  sometimes  used  to  walk  in 
the  evening,  with  instructions  to  attack  them,  and  kill 
both  father  and  son.  The  villains  did  as  they  were  or- 
dered by  Macbeth;  but  while  they  were  killing  Banquo, 
the  boy  Fleance  made  his  escape  from  their  wicked  hands, 
and  fled  from  Scotland  into  Wales.  And  it  is  said  that  long 
afterward,  his  children  came  to  possess  the  Scottish  crown. 

Sir  Walter  Scott. 


LESSON  XXXV. 

new§^boy  hiir^ry  ing  shiv'er§ 

neigh'hor  (ber)  weight  pen^nie§ 

lamp'-post  ply^ing  no^bod  f 

NOBODY'S   CHILD. 

1.  Only  a  newsboy,  under  the  light 

Of  the  lamp-post,  plying  his  trade  in  vain : 
Men  are  too  busy  to  stop  to-night, 

Hurrying  home  through  the  sleet  and  rain. 
Never  since  dark  a  paper  sold: 

Where  shall  he  sleep,  or  how  be  fed? 
He  thinks,  as  he  shivers  there  in  the  cold, 

While  happy  children  are  safe  abed. 

2.  Is  it  strange  if  he  turns  about, 

With  angry  words,  then  comes  to  blows, 
When  his  little  neighbor,  just  sold  out, 
Tossing  his  pennies,  past  him  goes? 


108  THE   CRANE   FOURTH   READER. 

"  Stop ! "—  some  one  looks  at  him,  sweet  and  mild, 
And  the  voice  that  speaks  is  a  tender  one : 

"You  should  not  strike  such  a  little  child. 

And  you  should  not  use  such  words,  my  son ! " 

3.  Is  it  his  anger  or  his  fears 

That  have  hushed  his  voice  and  stopped  his  arm? 
"  Don't  tremble,"  these  are  the  words  he  hears ; 
"Do  you  think  that  I  would  do  you  harm?" 
"It  isn't  that,"  and  the  hand  drops  down; 
"  I  wouldn't  care  for  kicks  and  blows ; 
But  nobody  ever  called  me  son. 
Because  I'm  nobody's  child,  I  s'pose." 

4.  0  men!  as  ye  careless  pass  along, 

Eemember  the  love  that  has  cared  for  you. 
And  blush  for  the  awful  shame  and  wrong 

Of  a  world  where  such  a  thing  could  be  true! 
Think  what  the  child  at  your  knee  had  been 

If  thus  on  life's  lonely  billows  tossed; 
And  who  shall  bear  the  weight  of  the  sin, 

If  one  of  these  "little  ones"  be  lost!     . 

Explain :    "  Plying  his  trade  in  vain." 

What  are  the  marks  around  "little  ones"?     Why? 

Tell  the  story  of  this  little  newsboy. 


Better  to  be  driven  out  from  among  men  than  to  be  disliked  of  children. 

— Dana. 
He  makes  a  July's  day  short  as  December; 
And,  with  his  varying  childness,  cures  in  me 
Thoughts  that  would  thick  my  blood.  — Shakespeare. 


THE    CRANE   FOURTH   READER.  109 


I 

LESSOInT  XXXVI. 

liv'eth 

waste 

e  reeV 

he^^v^en  ly 

seem^est 

re  fram' 

fliing 

ereed 

fruiVsige 

HE   LIVETH    LONG  WHO   LIVETH   WELL. 

1.  He  liveth  long  who  liveth  well! 

All  other  life  is  short  and  vain ; 
He  liveth  longest  who  can  tell 
Of  living  most  for  heavenly  gain. 

2.  He  liveth  long  who  liveth  well! 

All  else  is  being  flung  away ; 
He  liveth  longest  who  can  tell 

Of  true  things  truly  done  each  day. 

3.  Waste  not  thy  being ;  back  to  Him 

Who  freely  gave  it,  freely  give, 
Else  is  that  being  but  a  dream  — 
'Tis  to  be,  and  not  to  live. 

4.  Be  wise,  and  use  thy  wisdom  well ; 

Who  wisdom  speaks  must  live  it,  too; 
He  is  the  wisest  who  can  tell 
How  first  he  lived,  then  spoke  the  true. 

5.  Be  what  thou  seemest  —  live  thy  creed ; 

Hold  up  to  earth  the  torch  divine; 
Be  what  thou  prayest  to  be  made ; 
Let  the  great  Master's  step  be  thine. 


110  THE    CKANE   FOUKTII   EEADEE. 

6.  Fill  up  each  hour  with  what  will  last ; 

Buy  up  the  moments  as  they  go: 
The  life  above,  when  this  is  past, 
Is  the  ripe  fruit  of  life  below. 

7.  So,  if  thou  the  truth  would  reap, 

(Who  sows  the  false  shall  reap  the  vain,) 
Erect  and  sound  thy  conscience  keep; 
From  hollow  words  and  deeds  refrain. 

8.  Sow  love,  and  taste  its  fruitage  pure; 

Sow  peace,  and  reap  its  harvest  bright; 
Sow  sunbeams  on  the  rock  and  moor, 
And  find  a  harvest-home  of  light. 

HORATIUS  BONAE. 

Require  the  pupils  to  write  in  their  own  language,  or  paraphrase,  the 
thought  of  each  stanza,  being  careful  to  avoid  rhyming. 
Which  stanza  do  you  like  best?    Repeat  it  from  memory. 


lesso:n^  xxxvii. 

hos  pi  tari  ty         siie  geed^ed  es  pe'cial  ly  (pesh  al) 

boun^ti  ful  ly  be  nef  i  gent  ly       liv'er  ie§ 

me  an^dered  pit^i  a  h\e  ob  se^qui  otis 

THE   MIRACULOUS  PITCHER. 

PART  I. 

1.  One  evening,  in  times  long  ago,  old  Philemon  and  his 
old  wife  Baucis  sat  at  their  cottage  door,  enjoying  the 
calm  and  beautiful  sunset.  They  had  already  eaten  their 
frugal  supper,  and  intended  now  to  spend  a  quiet  hour  or 


THE    CRANE   FOURTH   READER.  Ill 

two  before  bedtime.  So  they  talked  together  about  their 
garden,  and  their  cow,  and  their  bees,  and  their  grapevine, 
which  clambered  over  the  cottage  wall,  and  on  which  the 
grapes  were  beginning  to  turn  purple.  But  the  rude 
shouts  of  children,  and  the  fierce  barking  of  dogs,  in  the 
village  near  at  hand,  grew  louder  and  louder,  until,  at 
last,  it  was  hardly  possible  for  Baucis  and  Philemon  to 
hear  each  other  speak. 

2.  '^  Ah,  wife,"  cried  Philemon,  "  I  fear  some  poor  trav- 
eler is  seeking  hospitality  among  our  neighbors  yonder, 
and,  instead  of  giving  him  food  and  lodging,  they  have  set. 
their  dogs  at  him,  as  their  custom  is ! " 

3.  "  Welladay ! "  answered  old  Baucis,  "  I  do  wish  our 
neighbors  felt  a  little  more  kindness  for  their  fellow-crea- 
tures. And  only  think  of  bringing  up  their  children  in 
this  naughty  way,  and  patting  them  on  the  head  when  they 
fling  stones  at  strangers!" 

4.  "  Those  children  will  never  come  to  any  good,"  said 
Philemon,  shaking  his  white  head.  "  To  tell  ypu  the  truth, 
wife,  I  should  not  wonder  if  some  terrible  thing  were  to 
happen  to  all  the  people  in  the  village,  unless  they  mend 
their  manners.  But,  as  for  you  and  me,  so  long  as  Provi- 
dence affords  us  a  crust  of  bread,  let  us  be  ready  to  give 
half  to  any  poor,  homeless  stranger  that  may  come  along 
and  need  it." 

5.  "  That 's  right,  husband ! "  said  Baucis.    "  So  we  will/' 

6.  These  old  folks,  you  must  know,  were  quite  poor,'  and 
had  to  work  hard  for  a  living.  Old  Philemon  toiled 
diligently  in  his  garden,  while  Baucis  was  always  busy 
with  her  distaff,  or  making  a  little  butter  and  cheese  with 
their  cow's  milk,  or  doing  one  thing  and  another  about  the 


112  THE    CKANE   FOURTH   READER. 

cottage.  Their  food  was  seldom  anything  but  bread,  milk, 
and  vegetables,  with  sometimes  a  portion  of  honey  from 
their  beehive,  and  now  and  then  a  bunch  of  grapes  that 
had  ripened  against  the  cottage  wall. 

7.  But  they  were  two  of  the  kindest  old  people  in  the 
world,  and  would  cheerfully  have  gone  without  their  din- 
ners any  day  rather  than  refuse  a  slice  of  their  brown 
loaf,  a  cup  of  new  milk,  and  a  spoonful  df  honey  to  the 
weary  traveler  who  might  pause  before  their  door.  They 
felt  as  if  such  guests  had  a  sort  of  holiness,  and  that  they 
ought  therefore  to  treat  them  better  and  more  bountifully 
than  their  own  selves. 

8.  Their  cottage  stood  on  a  rising  ground  at  some  dis- 
tance from  a  village  which  lay  in  a  hollow  valley  that  was 
about  half  a  mile  in  breadth.  This  valley  in  past  ages, 
when  the  world  was  new,  had  probably  been  the  bed  of  a 
lake.  There  fishes  had  glided  to  and  fro  in  the  depths, 
and  water-weeds  had  grown  along  the  margin,  and  trees 
and  hills  had  seen  their  reflected  images  in  the  broad  and 
peaceful  mirror.  But  as  the  waters  subsided  men  had  cul- 
tivated the  soil  and  built  houses  on  it,  so  that  it  was  now  'j^ 
a  fertile  spot,  and  bore  no  traces  of  the  ancient  lake  except  < 
a  very  small  brook  which  meandered  through  the  midst  of 
the  village,  and  supplied  the  inhabitants  with  water.  The 
valley  had  been  dry  land  so  long,  that  oaks  had  sprung  up, 
and  grown  great  and  high,  and  perished  with  old  age,  and 
been  succeeded  by  others,  as  tall  and  stately  as  the  first. 
Never  was  there  a  prettier  or  more  fruitful  valley.  The  ■  I 
very  sight  of  the  plenty  around  them  should  have  made 
the  inhabitants  kind  and  gentle,  and  ready  to  show  their 


I 


II 


THE    CRANE   FOURTH   READER.  113 

gratitude  to  Providence  by  doing  good  to  their  fellow- 
creatures. 

9.  But  we  are  sorry  to  say,  the  people  of  this  lovely  vil- 
lage were  not  worthy  to  dwell  in  a  spot  on  which  Heaven 
had  smiled  so  beneficently.  They  were  a  very  selfish  and 
hard-hearted  people,  and  had  neither  pity  for  the  poor  nor 
sympathy  with  the  homeless.  They  would  only  have 
laughed,  had  anybody  told  them  that  human  beings  owe 
a  debt  of  love  to  one  another,  because  there  is  no  other 
method  of  paying  the  debt  of  love  and  care  which  all  of 
us  owe  to  Providence.  You  will  hardly  believe  what  I 
am  going  to  tell  you. 

10.  These  naughty  people  taught  their  children  to  be 
no  better  than  themselves,  and  used  to  clap  their  hands,  by 
way  of  encouragement,  when  they  saw  the  little  boys  and 
girls  run  after  some  poor  stranger,  shouting  at  his  heels, 
and  pelting  him  with  stones.  They  kept  large  and  fierce 
dogs,  and  whenever  a  traveler  ventured  to  show  himself  in 
the  village  street,  this  pack  of  disagreeable  curs  scampered 
to  meet  him,  barking,  snarling,  and  showing  their  teeth. 
Then  they  would  seize  him  by  his  leg,  or  by  his  clothes, 
just  as  it  happened ;  and  if  he  were  ragged  when  he  came, 
he  was  generally  a  pitiable  object  before  he  had  time 
to  run  away.  This  was  a  very  terrible  thing  to  poor 
travelers,  as  you  may  suppose,  especially  when  they 
chanced  to  be  sick,  or  feeble,  or  lame,  or  old.  Such  persons 
(if  they  once  knew  how  badly  these  unkind  people  and 
their  unkind  children  and  curs  were  in  the  habit  of  behav- 
ing) would  go  miles  and  miles  out  of  their  way  rather  than 
try  to  pass  through  the  village  again. 

—8 


114  THE    CRANE   FOURTH   READER. 

11.  What  made  the  matter  seem  worse,  if  possible,  was 
that  when  rich  persons  came  in  their  chariots  or  riding  on 
beautiful  horses,  with  their  servants  in  rich  liveries  at- 
tending on  them,  nobody  could  be  more  civil  and  obsequi- 
ous than  the  inhabitants  of  the  village.  They  would  take  off 
their  hats  and  make  the  humblest  bows  you  ever  saw.  If 
the  children  were  rude,  they  were  pretty  certain  to  get 
their  ears  boxed;  and  as  for  the  dogs,  if  a  single  cur  in 
the  pack  presumed  to  yelp,  his  master  instantly  beat  him 
with  a  club  and  tied  him  up  without  any  supper. 

12.  This  would  have  been  all  very  well,  only  it  proved 
that  the  villagers  cared  much  about  the  money  that  a 
stranger  had  in  his  pocket,  and  nothing  whatever  for  the 
human  soul  which  lives  equally  in  the  beggar  and  the 
prince. 

13.  So  you  can  now  understand  why  old  Philemon  spoke 
so  sorrowfully  when  he  heard  the  shouts  of  the  children 
and  the  barking  of  the  dogs  at  the  farther  extremity  of  the 
village  street.  There  was  a  confused  din,  which  lasted  a 
good  while  and  seemed  to  pass  quite  through  the  breadth 
of  the  valley. 

14.  "  I  never  heard  the  dogs  so  loud,"  observed  the  good 
old  man. 

15.  "  Nor  the  children  so  rude,"  answered  his  good  old 
wife. 

16.  They  sat  shaking  their  heads  one  to  another,  while 
the  noise  came  nearer  and  nearer,  until,  at  the  foot  of  the 
little  eminence  on  which  their  cottage  stood,  they  saw 
two  travelers  approaching  on  foot.  Close  behind  them 
came  the  fierce  dogs  snarling  at  their  very  heels. 

17.  A  little  farther  off,  ran  a  crowd  of  children,  who 


THE   CKANE   FOUBTH   READER.  115 

sent  up  shrill  cries,  and  flung  stones  at  the  two  strangers, 
with  all  their  might.  Once  or  twice,  the  younger  of  the 
two  men  (he  was  a  slender  and  very  active  figure)  turned 
about  and  drove  back  the  dogs  with  a  staff  which  he  car- 
ried in  his  hand.  His  companion,  who  was  a  very  tall 
person,  walked  calmly  along,  as  if  disdaining  to  notice 
either  the  naughty  children,  or  the  pack  of  curs,  whose 
manners  the  children  seemed  to  imitate. 

18.  Both  of  the  travelers  were  very  humbly  clad,  and 
looked  as  if  they  might  not  have  money  enough  in  their 
pockets  to  pay  for  a  night's  lodging.  And  this,  I  am 
afraid,  was  the  reason  why  the  villagers  had  allowed  their 
children  and  dogs  to  treat  them  so  rudely. 

19.  "  Come,  wife,"  said  Philemon  to  Baucis,  "  let  us  go 
and  meet  these  poor  people.  No  doubt,  they  feel  almost 
too  heavy-hearted  to  climb  the  hill.'' 

20.  "  Go  you  and  meet  them,"  answered  Baucis,  "  while  I 
make  haste  within-doors,  and  see  whether  we  can  get  them 
anything  for  supper.  A  comfortable  bowl  of  bread  and 
milk  would  do  wonders  toward  raising  their  spirits." 

21.  Accordingly,  she  hastened  into  the  cottage.  Phile- 
mon, on  his  part,  went  forward,  and  extended  his  hand 
with  so  hospitable  an  aspect  that  there  was  no  need  of 
saying  what  nevertheless  he  did  say,  in  the  heartiest  tone 
imaginable, — 

"  Welcome,  strangers !  welcome !  ?' 

22.  "  Thank  you ! "  replied  the  younger  of  the  two,  in  a 
lively  kind  of  way,  notwithstanding  his  weariness  and 
trouble.  ^^  This  is  quite  another  greeting  than  we  have 
met  with  yonder  in  the  village.  Pray,  why  do  you  live 
in  such  a  bad  neighborhood  ? " 


116  THE   CKANE   FOURTH   READER. 

23.  "Ah!''  observed  old  Philemon  with  a  quiet  and 
benign  smile,  "Providence  put  me  here,  I  hope,  among 
other  reasons,  in  order  that  I  may  make  what  amends  I 
can  for  the  inhospitality  of  my  neighbors." 

24.  "  Well  said,  old  father ! "  cried  the  traveler,  laugh- 
ing ;  "  and,  if  the  truth  must  be  told,  my  companion  and 
myself  need  some  amends.  Those  children  (the  little  ras- 
cals !)  have  bespattered  us  finely  with  their  mud  balls,  and 
one  of  the  curs  has  torn  my  cloak,  which  was  ragged 
enough  already.  But  I  took  him  across  the  muzzle  with 
my  staff,  and  I  think  you  may  have  heard  him  yelp  even 
thus  far  oif ." 

25.  Philemon  was  glad  to  see  him  in  such  good  spirit; 
nor,  indeed,  would  you  have  fancied,  by  the  traveler's  look 
and  manner,  that  he  was  weary  with  a  long  day's  journey, 
besides  being  disheartened  by  rough  treatment  at  the  end 
of  it.  He  was  dressed  in  rather  an  odd  way,  with  a  sort  of 
cap  on  his  head,  the  brim  of  which  stuck  out  over  both 
ears.  Though  it  was  a  summer  evening,  he  wore  a  cloak, 
which  he  kept  wrapped  closely  about  him,  perhaps  because 
his  under-garments  were  shabby. 

26.  Philemon  perceived,  too,  that  he  had  on  a  singular 
pair  of  shoes,  but  as  it  was  now  growing  dusk,  and  as  the 
old  man's  eyesight  was  none  the  sharpest,  he  could  not 
precisely  tell  in  what  the  strangeness  consisted.  One  thing 
certainly  seemed  queer:  the  traveler  was  so  wonderfully 
light  and  active  that  it  appeared  as  if  his  feet  sometimes 
rose  from  the  ground  of  their  own  accord  or  could  be  kept 
down  only  by  an  effort. 

27.  "  I  used  to  be  light-footed  in  my  youth,"  said  Phile- 


THE   CRANE   FOURTH   READER.  117 

mon  to  the  traveler,  "  but  I  always  found  my  feet  growing 
heavier  toward  nightfall." 

28.  "There  is  nothing  like  a  good  staff  to  help  one 
along/'  answered  the  stranger ;  "  and  I  happen  to  have  an 
excellent  one,  as  you  see." 

29.  This  staff,  in  fact,  was  the  oddest-looking  staff  that 
Philemon  had  ever  beheld.  It  was  made  of  olive-wood, 
and  had  something  like  a  little  pair  of  wings  near  the  top. 
Two  snakes,  carved  in  the  wood,  were  represented  as  twin- 
ing themselves  about  the  staff,  and  were  so  very  skillfully 
executed  that  old  Philemon  (whose  eyes,  you  know,  were 
getting  rather  dim)  almost  thought  them  alive,  and  that  he 
could  see  them  wriggling  and  twisting. 

30.  "A  curious  piece  of  work,  sure  enough!"  said  he. 
"A  staff  with  wings!  It  would  be  an  excellent  kind  of 
stick  for  a  little  boy  to  ride  astride  of ! " 

31.  By  this  time,  Philemon  and  his  two  guests  had 
reached  the  cottage  door. 

32.  "Friends,"  said  the  old  man,  "sit  down  and  rest 
yourselves  here  on  this  bench.  My  good  wife  Baucis  has 
gone  to  see  what  you  can  have  for  supper.  We  are  poor 
folks;  but  you  shall  be  welcome  to  whatever  we  have  in 
the  cupboard." 

33.  The  younger  stranger  threw  himself  carelessly  on 
the  bench,  letting  his  staff  fall,  as  he  did  so.  And  here 
happened  something  rather  marvelous,  though  trifling 
enough,  too.  The  staff  seemed  to  get  up  from  the  ground 
of  its  own  accord,  and,  spreading  its  little  pair  of  wings, 
it  half  hopped,  half  flew,  and  leaned  itself  against  the  wall 
of  the  cottage.    There  it  stood  quite  still,  except  that  the 


118  THE    CRANE   FOCTllTH    READER. 

snakes  continued  to  wriggle.    But,  in  my  private  opinion, 
old  Philemon's  eyesight  had  been  playing  him  tricks  again. 

34.  Before  he  could  ask  any  questions,  the  elder  stran- 
ger drew  his  attention  from  the  wonderful  staff,  by  speak- 
ing to  him. 

35.  "  Was  there  not,"  asked  the  stranger  in  a  remarkably 
deep  tone  of  voice,  ^'  a  lake,  in  very  ancient  times,  covering 
the  spot  where  now  stands  yonder  village  1 '' 

36.  "  Not  in  my  day,  friend,''  answered  Philemon,  "  and 
yet  I  am  an  old  man,  as  you  see.  There  were  always  the 
fields  and  meadows  just  as  they  are  now,  and  the  old  trees, 
and  the  little  stream  murmuring  through  the  midst  of  the 
valley.  Neither  my  father,  nor  his  father  before  him,  ever 
saw  it  otherwise,  so  far  as  I  know,  and  doubtless  it  will  still 
be  the  same  when  old  Philemon  shall  be  gone  and  for- 
gotten." 

37.  "  That  is  more  than  can  be  safely  foretold,"  observed 
the  stranger;  and  there  was  something  very  stern  in  his 
deep  voice.  He  shook  his  head,  too,  so  that  his  dark  and 
heavy  curls  were  shaken  with  the  movement.  "  Since  the 
inhabitants  of  yonder  village  have  forgotten  the  affections 
and  sympathies  of  their  nature,  it  were  better  that  the  lake 
should  be  rippling  over  their  dwellings  again." 


By  humility,  and  the  fear  of  the  Lord,  are  riches,  honor,  and  life. 

— Proverbs. 
You  must  come  home  with  me  and  be  my  guest; 
You  will  give  joy  to  me,  and  I  will  do 
All  that  is  in  my  power  to  honor  you.  — Shelley. 

I  am  a  man,  and  I  have  an  interest  in  everything  that  concerns  humanity. 

— Terence. 


I 


THE   CRANE   FOURTH   READER.  119 

LESSON   XXXVIII. 

16  qua'cious  gar^ru  loiis  ly  de  Ifcious 

€011  QeiYe'  am  bro^sia  (zha)  paFa  ta  h\e 

IV  re  gist'i  bl^  pro  geed^ed  ex^qui  §ite  ly 

THE   MIRACULOUS   PITCHER. 
PAKT  II. 

1.  The  traveler  looked  so  stern  that  Philemon  was 
really  almost  frightened;  the  more  so,  that  at  his  frown 
the  twilight  seemed  suddenly  to  grow  darker,  and  that 
when  he  shook  his  head  there  was  a  roll  as  of  thunder  in 
the  air. 

2.  But  in  a  moment  afterward  the  stranger's  faCe 
became  so  kind  and  mild  that  the  old  man  quite  forgot  his 
terror.  Nevertheless,  he  could  not  help  feeling  that  this 
elder  traveler  must  be  no  ordinary  personage,  although  he 
happened  now  to  be  attired  so  humbly  and  to  be  journey- 
ing on  foot.  Not  that  Philemon  fancied  him  a  prince  in 
disguise  or  any  character  of  that  sort,  but  rather  some 
exceedingly  wise  man  who  went  about  the  world  in  this 
poor  garb, -despising  wealth  and  all  worldly  objects,  and 
seeking  everywhere  to  add  a  mite  to  his  wisdom.  This 
idea  appeared  the  more  probable,  because,  when  Philemon 
raised  his  eyes  to  the  stranger's  face,  he  seemed  to  see 
more  thought  there,  in  one  look,  than  he  could  have  studied 
out  in  a  lifetime. 

3.  While  Baucis  was  getting  the  supper,  the  travelers 
both  began  to  talk  very  sociably  with  Philemon.  The 
younger,  indeed,  was  extremely  loquacious,  and  made 
such  shrewd  and  witty  remarks,  that  the  good  old  man  con- 


120  THE   CKANE   FOUKTH   BEADEE. 

tinually  burst  out  a-laughing,  and  pronounced  him  the 
merriest  fellow  whom  he  had  seen  for  many  a  day. 

4.  "Pray,  my  young  friend,"  said  he,  as  they  grew 
familiar  together,  "  what  may  I  call  your  name ! '' 

5.  "  Why,  I  am  very  nimble,  as  you  see,''  answered  the 
traveler.  "  So,  if  you  call  me  Quicksilver,  the  name  will 
fit  tolerably  well." 

6.  "Quicksilver?  Quicksilver?"  repeated  Philemon, 
looking  in  the  traveler's  face,  to  see  if  he  were  making 
fun  of  him.  "It  is  a  very  odd  name!  And  your  com- 
panion there  ?    Has  he  as  strange  a  one  ? " 

7.  "You  must  ask  the  thunder  to  tell  it  you!"  replied 
Quicksilver,  putting  on  a  mysterious  look.  "No  other 
voice  is  loud  enough." 

8.  This  remark,  whether  it  were  serious  or  in  jest,  might 
have  caused  Philemon  to  conceive  a  very  great  awe  of  the 
elder  stranger,  if,  on  venturing  to  gaze  at  him,  he  had  not 
beheld  so  much  beneficence  in  his  visage.  But,  undoubt- 
edly, here  was  the  grandest  figure  that  ever  sat  so  humbly 
beside  a  cottage  door.  When  the  stranger  conversed,  it 
was  with  gravity,  and  in  such  a  way  that  Philemon  felt 
irresistibly  moved  to  tell  him  everything  which  he  had 
most  at  heart.  This  is  always  the  feeling  that  people-have 
when  they  meet  with  anyone  wise  enough  to  comprehend 
all  their  good  and  evil,  and  to  despise  not  a  tittle  of  it. 

9.  But  Philemon,  simple  and  kind-hearted  old  man  that 
he  was,  had  not  any  secrets  to  disclose.  He  talked,  how- 
ever, quite  garrulously  about  the  events  of  his  past  life, 
in  the  whole  course  of  which  he  had  never  been  a  score 
of  miles  from  this  very  spot.  His  wife  Baucis  and  himself 
dwelt  in  the  cottage  from  their  youth  upward,  earning 


THE    CRANE   FOURTH   READER.  121 

their  bread  by  honest  labor,  always  poor,  but  still  con- 
tented. He  told  what  excellent  butter  and  cheese  Baucis 
made,  and  how  nice  were  the  vegetables  which  he  raised 
in  his  garden.  He  said,  too,  that,  because  they  loved  one 
another  so  very  much,  it  was  the  wish  of  both  that  death 
might  not  separate  them,  but  that  they  should  die,  as 
they  had  lived,  together. 

10.  As  the  stranger  listened,  a  smile  beamed  over  his 
countenance  and  made  its  expression  as  sweet  as  it  was 
grand.  .  , 

11.  "You  are  a  good  old  man,''  said  he  to  Philemon, 
"  and  you  have  a  good  old  wife  to  be  your  helpmeet.  It  is 
fit  that  your  wish  be  granted." 

12.  And  it  seemed  to  Philemon  just  then  as  if  the  sun- 
set clouds  threw  up  a  bright  flash  from  the  west  and  kin- 
dled a  sudden  light  in  the  sky. 

13.  Baucis  had  now  got  supper  ready,  and,  coming  to 
the  door,  began  to  make  apologies  for  the  poor  fare  which 
she  was  forced  to  set  before  her  guests. 

14.  "  Had  we  known  you  were  coming,"  said  she,  "  my 
good  man  and  myself  would  have  gone  without  a  morsel 
rather  than  you  should  lack  a  better  supper.  But  I  took 
the  most  part  of  to-day's  milk  to  make  cheese,  and  our 
last  loaf  is  already  half -eaten.  Ah,  me !  I  never  feel  the 
sorrow  of  being  poor  save  when  a  poor  traveler  knocks 
at  our  door." 

15.  "  All  will  be  very  well ;  do  not  trouble  yourself,  my 
good  dame,"  replied  the  elder  stranger  kindly.  "  An  hon- 
est, hearty  welcome  to  a  guest  works  miracles  with  the 
fare,  and  is  capable  of  turning  the  coarsest  food  to  nectai 
and  ambrosia." 


I 


122  THE   CRANE   FOURTH   READER. 

16.  "A  welcome  you  shall  have/'  cried  Baucis,  "and 
likewise  a  little  honey  that  we  happen  to  have  left,  and  a 
bunch  of  purple  grapes  besides." 

17.  "Why,  Mother  Baucis,  it  is  a  feast!"  exclaimed 
Quicksilver,  laughing,  "  an  absolute  feast !  and  you  shall 
see  how  bravely  I  will  play  my  part  at  it !  I  think  I  never 
felt  hungrier  in  my  life." 

18.  "  Mercy  on  us ! "  whispered  Baucis  to  her  husband. 
"  If  the  young^man  has  such  a  terrible  appetite,  I  am  afraid 
there  will  not  be  half  enough  supper!" 

19.  They  all  went  into  the  cottage. 

20.  And  now,  my  little  auditors,  shall  I  tell  you  some- 
thing that  will  make  you  open  your  eyes  very  wide!  It  is 
really  one  of  the  oddest  circumstances  in  the  whole  story. 
Quicksilver's  staff,  you  recollect,  had  set  itself  up  against 
the  wall  of  the  cottage.  Well,  when  its  master  entered 
the  door,  leaving  this  wonderful  staff  behind,  what  should 
it  do  but  immediately  spread  its  little  wings,  and  go  hop- 
ping and  fluttering  up  the  doorsteps !  Tap,  tap,  went  the 
staff,  on  the  kitchen  floor;  nor  did  it  rest  until  it  had 
stood  itself  on  end,  with  the  greatest  gravity  arid  decorum, 
beside  Quicksilver's  chair.  Old  Philemon,  however,  as 
well  as  his  wife,  was  so  taken  up  in  attending  to  their 
guests,  that  no  notice  was  given  to  what  the  staff  had 
been  about. 

21.  As  Baucis  had  said,  there  was  but  a  scanty  supper 
for  two  hungry  travelers.  In  the  middle  of  the  table  was 
the  remnant  of  a  brown  loaf,  with  a  piece  of  cheese  on  one 
side  of  it,  and  a  dish  of  honeycomb  on  the  other.  There 
was  a  pretty  good  bunch  of  grapes  for  each  of  the  guests. 
A  moderate-sized  earthen  pitcher,  nearly  full  of  milk. 


THE    CRANE   FOURTH   READER.  123 

stood  at  the  corner  of  the  board,  and  when  Baucis  had 
filled  two  bowls  and  set  them  before  the  strangers  only  a 
little  milk  remained  in  the  bottom  of  the  pitcher.  Alas! 
it  is  a  very  sad  business  when  a  bountiful  heart  finds  itself 
pinched  and  squeezed  among  narrow  circumstances.  Poor 
Baucis  kept  wishing  that  she  might  starve  for  a  week  to 
come,  if  it  were  possible  by  so  doing  to  provide  these 
hungry  folks  a  more  plentiful  supper. 

22.  And,  since  the  supper  was  so  exceedingly  small, 
she  could  not  help  wishing  that  their  appetites  had  not 
been  quite  so  large.  Why,  at  their  very  first  sitting  down, 
the  travelers  both  drank  off  all  the  milk  in  their  two  bowls 
at  a  draught! 

23.  "A  little  more  milk,  kind  Mother  Baucis,  if  you 
please,"  said  Quicksilver.  "  The  day  has  been  hot  and  I 
am  very  much  athirst." 

24.  "  Now,  my  dear  people,''  answered  Baucis,  in  great 
confusion,  "I  am  so  sorry  and  ashamed!  But  the  truth 
is,  there  is  hardly  a  drop  more  milk  in  the  pitcher.  Oh, 
husband!  husband!  why  didn't  we  go  without  our  suj)- 
per!" 

25.  "Why,  it  appears  to  me,"  cried  Quicksilver,  start- 
ing up  from  the  table  and  taking  the  pitcher  by  the 
handle  —  "it  really  appears  to  me  that  matters  are  not 
quite  so  bad  as  you  represent  them.  Here  is  certainly 
more  milk  in  the  pitcher." 

26.  So  saying,  and  to  the  vast  astonishment  of  Baucis, 
he  proceeded  to  fill  not  only  his  own  bowl,  but  his  com- 
panion's likewise,  from  the  pitcher  that  was  supposed  to 
be  almost  empty.  The  good  woman  could  scarcely  be- 
lieve her  eyes.    She  had  certainly  poured  out  nearly  all 


124 


THE    CRANE   FOURTH   READER. 


the  milk,  and  had  peeped  in  afterward  and  seen  the  bot- 
tom of  the  pitcher  as  she  set  it  down  upon  the  table. 

27.  "But  I  am  old/'  thought  Baucis  to  herself,  "and 
apt  to  be  forgetful.  I  suppose  I  must  have  made  a  mis- 
take. At  all  events,  the  pitcher  cannot  help  being  empty- 
now,  after  filling  the  bowls  twice  over." 

28.  "  What  excellent  milk ! "  observed  Quicksilver,  after 
quaffing  the  contents  of  the  second  bowl.  "Excuse  me, 
my  kind  hostess,  but  I  must  really  ask  you  for  a  little 
more." 

29.  Now  Baucis  had  seen,  as  plainly  as  she  could  see 
anything,  that  Quicksilver  had  turned  the  pitcher  upside 
down,  and  consequently  had  poured  out  every  drop  of  milk, 
in  filling  the  last  bowl.  Of  course,  there  could  not  possibly 
be  any  left.  However,  in  order  to  let  him  know  precisely 
how  the  case  was,  she  lifted  the  pitcher,  and  made  a  ges- 
ture as  if  pouring  milk  into  Quicksilver's  bowl,  but  with- 
out the  remotest  idea  that  any  milk  would  stream  forth. 

30.  "What  was  her  surprise,  therefore,  when  such  an 
abundant  cascade  fell  bubbling  into  the  bowl,  that  it  was 
immediately  filled  to  the  brim,  and  overflowed  upon  the 
table!  The  two  snakes  that  were  twisted  about  Quick- 
silver's staff  (but  neither  Baucis  nor  Philemon  happened 
to  observe  this  circumstance)  stretched  out  their  heads, 
and  began  to  lap  up  the  spilt  milk. 

31.  And  then  what  a  delicious  fragrance  the  milk  had! 
It  seemed  as  if  Philemon's  only  cow  must  have  pastured, 
that  day,  on  the  richest  herbage  that  could  be  found  any- 
where in  the  world.  I  only  wish  that  each  of  you,  my 
beloved  little  souls,  could  have  a  bowl  of  such  nice  milk, 
at  supper-time! 


f 


THE    CRANE   FOURTH   READER.  125 

32.  "And  now  a  slice  of  your  brown  loaf,  Mother 
Baucis/'  said  Quicksilver,  "  and  a  little  of  that  honey." 

33.  Baucis  cut  him  a  slice  accordingly ;  and  though  the 
loaf,  when  she  and  her  husband  ate  of  it,  had  been  rather 
too  dry  and  crusty  to  be  palatable,  it  was  now  as  light  and 
moist  as  if  but  a  few  hours  out  of  the  oven.  Tasting  a 
crumb  which  had  fallen  on  the  table,  she  found  it  more 
delicious  than  bread  ever  was  before,  and  could  hardly 
believe  that  it  was  a  loaf  of  her  own  kneading  and  baking. 
Yet  what  other  loaf  could  it  possibly  be! 

34.  But  oh,  the  honey !  I  may  just  as  well  let  it  alone, 
without  trying  to  describe  how  exquisitely  it  smelt  and 
looked.  Its  color  was  that  of  the  purest  and  most  trans- 
parent gold,  and  it  had  the  odor  of  a  thousand  flowers,  but 
of  such  flowers  as  never  grew  in  an  earthly  garden,  and  to 
seek  which  the  bees  must  have  flown  high  above  the  clouds. 

35.  The  wonder  is  that,  after  alighting  on  a  flower-bed 
of  so  delicious  fragrance  and  immortal  bloom,  they 
should  have  been  content  to  fly  down  again  to  their  hive  in 
Philemon's  garden.  Never  was  such  honey  tasted,  seen, 
or  smelt.  The  perfume  floated  around  the  kitchen,  and 
made  it  so  delightful  that,  had  you  closed  your  eyes,  you 
would  instantly  have  forgotten  the  low  ceiling  and  smoky 
walls,  and  have  fancied  yourself  in  an  arbor  with  celes- 
tial honeysuckles  creeping  over  it. 

36.  Although  good  Mother  Baucis  was  a  simple  old 
dame,  she  could  not  but  think  that  there  was  something 
rather  out  of  the  common  way  in  all  that  had  been  going 
on.  So,  after  helping  the  guests  to  bread  and  honey  and 
laying  a  bunch  of  grapes  by  each  of  their  plates,  she  sat 


126  THE    CRANE   FOURTH   READER. 

down  by  Philemon,  and  in  a  whisper  told  him  what  she 
had  seen. 

"  Did  you  ever  hear  the  like  ? "  asked  she. 

37.  "No,  I  never  did,"  answered  Philemon,  with  a 
smile.  "And  I  rather  think,  my  dear  old  wife,  you  have 
been  walking  about  in  a  sort  of  dream.  If  I  had  poured 
out  the  milk,  I  should  have  seen  through  the  business  at 
once.  There  happened  to  be  a  little  more  in  the  pitcher 
than  you  thought  —  that  is  all." 

38.  "Ah,  husband,"  said  Baucis,  "say  what  you  will, 
these  are  very  uncommon  people." 

39.  "  Well,  well,"  replied  Philemon,  still  smiling,  "  per- 
haps they  are.  They  certainly  do  look  as  if  they  had  seen 
better  days ;  and  I  am  heartily  glad  to  see  them  making  so 
comfortable  a  supper." 

40.  Each  of  the  guests  had  now  taken  his  bunch  of 
grapes  upon  his  plate.  Baucis  (who  rubbed  her  eyes,  in 
order  to  see  the  more  clearly)  was  of  opinion  that  the 
clusters  had  grown  larger  and  richer,  and  that  each  sep- 
arate grape  seemed  to  be  on  the  point  of  bursting  with 
ripe  juice.  It  was  entirely  a  mystery  to  her  how  such 
grapes  could  ever  have  been  produced  from  the  old  stunted 
vine  that  climbed  against  the  cottage  wall. 

41.  "Very  admirable  grapes  these!"  observed  Quick- 
silver, as  he  swallowed  one  after  another,  without  appar- 
ently diminishing  his  cluster.  "Pray,  my  good  host, 
whence  did  you  gather  them?" 

42.  "  From  my  own  vine,"  answered  Philemon.  "  You 
may  see  one  of  its  branches  twisting  across  the  window, 
yonder.  But  wife  and  I  never  thought  the  grapes  very 
fine  ones." 


THE    CKANE   FOURTH   READEE.  127 

43.  "  I  never  tasted  better,"  said  the  guest.  "  Another 
cup  of  this  delicious  milk,  if  you  please,  and  I  shall  then 
have  supped  better  than  a  prince." 

44.  This  time,  old  Philemon  bestirred  himself,  and  took 
up  the  pitcher,  for  he  was  curious  to  discover  whether 
there  was  any  reality  in  the  marvels  which  Baucis  had 
whispered  to  him.  He  knew  that  his  good  old  wife  was 
incapable  of  falsehood,  and  that  she  was  seldom  mistaken 
in  what  she  supposed  to  be  true ;  but  this  was  so  very  sin- 
gular a  case  that  he  wanted  to  see  into  it  with  his  own  eyes. 
On  taking  up  the  pitcher,  therefore,  he  slyly  peeped  into 
it,  and  was  fully  satisfied  that  it  contained  not  so  much 
as  a  single  drop.  All  at  once,  however,  he  beheld  a  little 
white  fountain  which  gushed  up  from  the  bottom  of  the 
pitcher  and  speedily  filled  it  to  the  brim  with  foaming  and 
deliciously  fragrant  milk.  It  was  lucky  that  Philemon,  in 
his  surprise,  did  not  drop  the  miraculous  pitcher  from  his 
hand. 

45.  "Who  are  ye,  wonder-working  strangers'?"  cried 
he,  even  more  bewildered  than  his  wife  had  been. 

46.  "  Your  guests,  my  good  Philemon,  and  your  friends," 
replied  the  elder  traveler,  in  his  mild,  deep  voice  that  had 
something  at  once  sweet  and  awe-inspiring  in  it.  "Give 
me  likewise  a  cup  of  the  milk ;  and  may  your  pitcher  never 
be  empty  for  kind  Baucis  and  yourself,  any  more  than  for 
the  needy  wayfarer." 


Lowliness  is  the  base  of  every  virtue. 

And  he  who  goes  the  lowest,  builds  the  safest.  — Bailey. 

This  is  the  porcelain  clay  of  human  kind.  — Dryden. 


128  THE   CRANE   FOURTH   READER. 

LESSOIST  XXXIX. 

il  lim^it  a  hie  vf  and§  per  plex^i  t^ 

m  e^  hausVi  bk  Yi^'age  ed'i  fige 

di  vin^i  tie§  spa^cious  hos^pi  ta  bl^ 

THE    MIRACULOUS    PITCHER. 
PART  III. 

1.  The  supper  being  now  over,  the  strangers  requested 
to  be  shown  to  their  place  of  repose.  The  old  people  would 
gladly  have  talked  with  them  a  little  longer,  and  have  ex- 
pressed the  wonder  which  they  felt,  and  their  delight  at 
finding  the  poor  and  meager  supper  prove  so  much  better 
and  more  abundant  than  they  hoped.  But  the  elder  trav- 
eler had  inspired  them  with  such  reverence  that  they  dared 
not  ask  him  any  questions.  And  when  Philemon  drew 
Quicksilver  aside  and  inquired  how  under  the. sun  a  foun- 
tain of  milk  could  have  got  into  an  old  earthen  pitcher, 
this  latter  personage  pointed  to  his  staff. 

2.  "There  is  the  whole  mystery  of  the  affair,''  quoth 
Quicksilver ;  "  and  if  you  can  make  it  out,  I  '11  thank  you 
to  let  me  know.  I  can't  tell  what  to  make  of  my  staff.  It 
is  always  playing  such  odd  tricks  as  this ;  sometimes  get- 
ting me  a  supper,  and,  quite  as  often,  stealing  it  away.  If  I 
had  any  faith  in  such  nonsense,  I  should  say  the  stick  was 
bewitched ! " 

3.  He  said  no  more,  but  looked  so  slyly  in  their  faces, 
that  they  rather  fancied  he  was  laughing  at  them.  The 
magic  staff  went  hopping  at  his  heels,  as  Quicksilver  quit- 
ted the  room.  When  left  alone,  the  good  old  couple  spent 
some  little  time  in  conversation  about  the  events  of  the 


er, 


THE    CRANE   FOURTH   READER.  129 

evening,  and  then  lay  down  on  the  floor,  and  fell  fast 
asleep.  They  had  given  up  their  sleeping-room  to  the 
guests,  and  had  no  other  bed  for  themselves,  save  these 
planks,  which  I  wish  had  been  as  soft  as  their  own  hearts. 

4.  The  old  man  and  his  wife  were  stirring  betimes,  in 
the  morning,  and  the  strangers  likewise  arose  with  the 
sun,  and  made  their  preparations  to  depart.  Philemon 
hospitably  entreated  them  to  remain  a  little  longer,  until 
Baucis  could  milk  the  cow,  and  bake  a  cake  upon  the 
hearth,  and,  perhaps,  find  them  a  few  fresh  eggs  for  break- 
fast. The  guests,  however,  seemed  to  think  it  better  to  ac- 
complish a  good  part  of  their  journey  before  the  heat  of  the 
day  should  come  on.  They  therefore  persisted  in  setting 
out  immediately,  but  asked  Philemon  and  Baucis  to  walk 
forth  with  them  a  short  distance,  and  show  them  the  road 
which  they  were  to  take. 

5.  So  they  all  four  issued  from  the  cottage,  chatting  to- 
gether like  old  friends.  It  was  very  remarkable,  indeed, 
how  familiar  the  old  couple  insensibly  grew  with  the  elder 
traveler,  and  how  their  good  and  simple  spirits  melted  into 
his,  even  as  two  drops  of  water  would  melt  into  the  illimit- 
able ocean.  And  as  for  Quicksilver,  with  his  keen,  quick, 
laughing  wits,  he  appeared  to  discover  every  little  thought 
that  but  peeped  into  their  minds  before  they  suspected  it 
themselves.  They  sometimes  wished,  it  is  true,  that  he 
had  not  been  quite  so  quick-witted,  and  also  that  he  would 
fling  away  his  staff,  which  looked  so  mysteriously  mis- 
chievous with  the  snakes  always  writhing  about  it.  But, 
then,  again.  Quicksilver  showed  himself  so  very  good- 
humored  that  they  would  have  been  rejoiced  to  keep  him 


130 


i'HE   CRANi!   FOtTRtll  READER. 


in  their  cottage,  staff,  snakes,  and  all,  every  day  and  the 
whole  day  long. 

6.  "Ah,  me!  Welladay!"  exclaimed  Philemon  when 
they  had  walked  a  little  way  from  their  door.  "If  our 
neighbors  only  knew  what  a  blessed  thing  it  is  to  show 
hospitality  to  strangers,  they  would  tie  up  all  their  dogs 
and  never  allow  their  children  to  fling  another  stone." 

7.  "It  is  a  sin  and  shame  for  them  to  behave  so  — 
that  it  is!"  cried  good  old  Baucis  vehemently.  "And  I 
mean  to  go  this  very  day  and  tell  some  of  them  what 
naughty  people  they  are." 

8.  "  I  fear,"  remarked  Quicksilver,  slyly  smiling,  "  that 
you  will  find  none  of  them  at  home." 

The  elder  traveler's  brow  just  then  assumed  such  a 
grave,  stern,  and  awful  grandeur,  yet  serene  withal,  that 
ifeither  Baucis  nor  Philemon  dared  to  speak  a  word.  They 
gazed  reverently  into  his  face,  as  if  they  had  been  gazing 
at  the  sky. 

9. . "  When  men  do  not  feel  toward  the  humblest  stran- 
ger as  if  he  were  a  brother,"  said  the  traveler  in  tones  so 
deep  that  they  sounded  like  those  of  an  organ,  "  they  are 
unworthy  to  exist  on  earth,  which  was  created  as  the  abode 
of  a  great  human  brotherhood." 

10.  "  And,  by  the  by,  my  dear  old  people,"  cried  Quick- 
silver, with  the  liveliest  look  of  fun  and  mischief  in  his 
eyes,  "  where  is  this  same  village  that  you  talk  about !  On 
which  side  of  us  does  it  lie?  Methinks  I  do  not  see  it 
hereabouts." 

11.  Philemon  and  his  wife  turned  toward  the  valley, 
where,  at  sunset,  only  the  day  before,  they  had  seen  the 


THE   CEANE   FOURTH   READER.  131 

meadows,  the  houses,  the  gardens,  the  clumps  of  trees,  the 
wide,  green-margined  street,  with  children  playing  in  it, 
and  all  the  tokens  of  business,  enjoyment,  and  prosperity. 
But  what  was  their  astonishment!  There  was  no  longer 
any  appearance  of  a  village !  Even  the  fertile  vale,  in  the 
hollow  of  which  it  lay,  had  ceased  to  have  existence.  Tn  its 
stead,  they  beheld  the  broad,  blue  surface  of  a  lake,  which 
filled  the  great  basin  of  the  valley  from  brim  to  brim,  and 
reflected  the  surrounding  hills  in  its  bosom  with  as  tranquil 
an  image  as  if  it  had  been  there  ever  since  the  creation  of 
the  world.  For  an  instant,  the  lake  remained  perfectly 
smooth.  Then,  a  little  breeze  sprang  up,  and  caused  the 
water  to  dance,  glitter,  and  sparkle  in  the  early  sunbeams, 
and  to  dash,  with  a  pleasant  rippling  murmur,  against  the 
hither  shore. 

12.  The  lake  seemed  so  strangely  familiar,  that  the  old 
couple  were  greatly  perplexed,  and  felt  as  if  they  could 
only  have  been  dreaming  about  a  village  having  lain  there. 
But,  the  next  moment,  they  remembered  the  vanished 
dwellings,  and  the  faces  and  characters  of  the  inhabitants, 
far  too  distinctly  for  a  dream.  The  village  had  been  there 
yesterday,  and  now  was  gone ! 

13.  "  Alas ! "  cried  these  kind-hearted  old  people,  "  what 
has  become  of  our  poor  neighbors ! " 

14.  "  They  exist  no  longer  as  men  and  women,''  said  the 
elder  traveler,  in  his  grand  and  deep  voice,  while  a  roll 
of  thunder  seemed  to  echo  it  at  a  distance.  "  There  was 
neither  use  nor  beauty  in  such  a  life  as  theirs,  for  they 
never  softened  or  sweetened  the  hard  lot  of  mortality  by 
the  exercise  of  kindly  affections  between  man  and  man. 


139  THB  oiu^im  wxrwm  biadsiu 

Thoy  jvtaiui  1   u  in  i  ^  .  i  ilu^  better  life  in  tlxdr  bosomSi 

llhMvKMv  tlu^  i.iko  (hat  w.i-  ^>r  old  has  spread  itself  forth 

1  >       Alul   .1  /;u>    uu^lish   ptM>|^lo»>>  said  Qiuok- 

sil\ri-  with  his  luisohit^x  ous  snuK\  ••  {\\c\  ;iro  all  trans- 
rornuni  to  tlsluv^.  T]u\\  lu^ihil  h\\\  littlo  oluv!\,4?ts  for 
tlu\v  \voro  alroaiiy  a  st  .mN  n  .  i  r.isr.ils.  jnul  i)\(>  coldest- 
Woodod  Ihmu^^  in  r\;-.u-i;.v-  Sv\  Kuul  ,Mo(!uM-  r^Miiois, 
\vl\onovov  ;^^\i  or  your  husluwui  ha\*  .m  nppotito  i\m    i   l^h 

o\   iMoiltvl  ii-ont.  ho  oau  throw    i»i  n  liih>  .ni»l  |MiI1  out   li.'ilt*  a 

Ji>     iMl    »>!"    \  .Mil     i>!t]    nt^''»^'''vM-'v" 

ic.    ■   Ail.     .  I  u-J  sluhKKvi'n^^^  *•  1  wouKl  not  t*or 

tho  world  p\it  ono  oi  ilu  111  o!\  tlu^  jjjridimn!** 

i"  Xo.''  addod  PhiU>uu>n,  nmking  a  \\  i  \  Tmoo.  "wo 
iVMil.l  iir\  K'\-  n^lish  thtMO." 

IS     ■•  As  I'of  \iMi.  i^oiul   rhllouuMi."  vontnuh\l  tlu*  v^KUu' 

trixilor  nul  \oii  kind  Bauds — yon  with  >'o\ir  scanty 
nunvns  havo  loinjiiUa  o  uwwh  l\oartfeIt  hospitality  with 
your  ontortainn\ont  oi  tho  hon  .  -'  -h'MT\!irov  that  tho  toilk 
Invanu^  an  inoxliaostibK^  fotn  un.  au^l  tho  brown 

hmf  and  tlu^  hono\    wv   .  Thus  tho  divinitios 

havo  IVastovl  at  \v>ui  IwwA  oiY  tiio  s.nuo  xiniuls  that  s\i}>ply 
thoir  hanq\»ots  on  Olunpus  >\>n  havodvMio  w;*^'  »'>\  tlonr 
ohl  iVionds.    \Vhotvt\Mt^  i^    ;u    i  whatovor  i.i\  ii.i\o 

)no8t  at  hoavt,  and  u  .1 

W.  Phih^non  and  Iwoiois  Ivv  K.\l  u  o!\t»  ai\othor,  and 
\W\\  \  know  not  w^-  '^^  of  tho  two  it  was  who  s|H>kt\  h\it 
tnat  oiuMlttonnl  \\u  ol*hoth  thoir  ht\irts  : 

20*  "liOt  ns  liNo  toivotlior.  whilo  w  (^  ii\o.  nuvl  lo:i\o  tlio 
woi'lvl  Mt  !^'(^  sniuo  itistniU.  wIum\  w  i^  J;.'*  I'or  w  v^  ha\i^  al- 
wuNvS  Uootl  ono  anothorl" 


Till*;  ciiANi';   I'-omiTii    iii;\ih;h.  188 

21.  "Be  It  go  I"  rq)lio(l  lli(»HinmK<'r,  wiili  iii/iJ<uirK  I  hkI 
nesB.    "Now,  looK  Icw.ikI  NiMiicc.iinKol" 

22.  TTh'v  <li«l  «'  r.iil,  wli.'il  w.ii  lIuMi'  HMrpriH<»  mi  hn^ 
holding  •'  '•''•  <<lili'<'  <>!'  whit.<»  iii;iiM<\  wilh  ;i  w  i<lc  (.|.rti 
portttl,  OCtMipying  iho  H|m»I  wImk'  \\\o\v  lininlilt*  iciidcnco 
liiul  HO  Inicly  Hlood  I 

2:\.  "  'V\\vvo  \H  your  Immuo/'  miil  iho  stmiigor,  lM»nnfli'fmtly 
HMiiliiiK  (III  Hh'iii  ImiHi.  "Kxorniso  your  liOHpilnlily  in 
yondor  |i/iln<'<»  ;ih  ficoly  iih  in  iho  poor  hovd  to  wlii<  li  y<»ii 
W(»l<M)Mic<|  lis  I.mhI,  (•veiling." 

:M.     The   «>ld    I'nIKs    fell    oil    iliPir   IviKM.M   |<>   tli.Mi||<    |iitt|;     l)ui, 

Im'Ik.M   '       licllll.l      Ik'     IH.I      (^>|||.    I        ll',.    I       \V.l         111.    1... 

:!.>.  S(»  riiilciiK.ii  ;iiid  r.;iiici;i  hiok  u|)  ilu'lr  rtiHid(»ri(U}  in 

Filie  iii.Mihh'  |»;il.M(M',  ;iii(|  Hpciil,  llicir  iiiiic,  wiili  v/ini  HiiiiHluo- 
(ion  (<>  1  Ik'iiiscIn  «••;,  in  iimking  (»vnryl"tdv  i<»||y  and  (•(»nirnr'i- 

:iltl<'  who  li;i|.|  !(ii((|   lo  |»;iHH  Hint  \\;i '•  inilk-|)il<li<  r,   I 

iiMi  I  IK. I  r<Mgat  to  Hay,  i<  i.iiiK'd  ItH  miirvulouM  (ivmliiy  of 
hcin^'  never  (Miipiy,  wImh  iI  \v;ih  <l<»Hii*nl)le  io  li;i\<'  il  fiill. 
Whenever  nn  honr.j,  --(lod  humored,  nnd  In  <  Ik  ;irl(!(l 
viic  :|  look  .'I  di;iii"hl  rioiii  IhJH  pilrhfi,  he  i iiv;iri;ihly 
round  il,  (he  ;  \\. .  I.  I  ;iim|  nioMt  invigorniing  Ihiid  Ihnl,  (^ver 
r.'in  down  his  Ihroal.  I»iil,  if  ;i  <io  .nxl  diHUgre(»/ihh}  (Mir- 
nnidgeon  hji|»|>en<'(|  lo  si| .,  Ii<  w  ;i  |  m  1 1  \  <'<»rJ;iin  lo  Iwisf,  hln 
visa^^c  iiilo  .'I  h;ird  Kiiol,  .iikI  |iioinMiiicc  il  ;i  |.il'  Iki  ol'  .our 
milk! 

:!("».  Thus  Mm'  oM  coijith'  Il\<'<1  in  Ukmi'  pnhice  ji,  groat, 
/•ic.'il.  whilr,  .'111(1  '^\n'\\  oldci  ;iiid  ohicr,  ;md  vciy  ohi  hi- 
<h'<'(k  A I  h'ii^';ih,  ho\\c\<'r,  IIicm  <;iiii<'  ;i  iiiiuim  t  nioiniii;^ 
when  i'hili-iiK.ii  ;iii<l  r.;iii<i  l.-iilcd  lo  m;iko  thoir  Jij  »| '*•'"' 
jiiK  (  ,  .1  on  olher  mornings,  wilh  oiki  hoHpil.n})le  siiiih} 
uvi;i;;|H(  iding   bulii   tlioir    plc'i  .ml    \':\ci'H,    to   invito   tlio 


134  THE    CRANE    FOURTH    READER. 

guests  of  over-niglit  to  breakfast.  The  guests  searched 
everywhere,  from  top  to  bottom  of  the  spacious  palace,  and 
all  to  no  purpose.  But  after  a  great  deal  of  perplexity, 
they  espied  in  front  of  the  portal  two  venerable  trees  which 
nobody  could  remember  to  have  seen  there  the  day  before. 
Yet  there  they  stood,  with  their  roots  fastened  deep  into  the 
soil  and  a  huge  breadth  of  foliage  overshadowing  the 
whole  front  of  the  edifice.  One  was  an  oak  and  the  other 
a  linden  tree.  Their  boughs  —  it  was  strange  and  beauti- 
ful to  see  —  were  intertwined  together  and  embraced  one 
another,  so  that  each  tree  seemed  to  live  in  the  other  tree's 
bosom  much  more  than  in  its  own. 

27.  While  the  guests  were  marveling  how  these  trees, 
that  must  have  required  at  least  a  century  to  grow,  could 
have  come  to  be  so  tall  and  venerable  in  a  single  night,  a 
breeze  sprang  up  and  set  their  intermingled  boughs  astir. 
And  then  there  was  a  deep,  broad  murmur  in  the  air,  as 
if  the  two  mysterious  trees  were  speaking. 

"  I  am  old  Philemon ! "  murmured  the  oak.  * 
"  I  am  old  Baucis ! ''  murmured  the  linden  tree. 

28.  But  as  the  breeze  grew  stronger  the  trees  both  spoke 
at  once— ^'Philemon!  Baucis!  Baucis!  Philemon!"— 
as  if  one  were  both  and  both  were  one,  and  talking  together 
in  the  depths  of  their  mutual  heart.  It  was  plain  enough 
to  perceive  that  the  good  old  couple  had  renewed  their  age, 
and  were  now  to  spend  a  quiet  and  delightful  hundred 
years  or  so,  Philemon  as  an  oak  and  Baucis  as  a  linden 
tree.  And  oh,  what  a  hospitable  shade  did  they  fling  around 
them !  Whenever  a  wayfarer  paused  beneath  it  he  heard 
a  pleasant  whisper  of  the  leaves  above  his  head,  and  won- 


THE    CRANE    FOURTH    READER. 


135 


dered  how  the  sound  should  so  much  resemble  words  like 
these : 

"Welcome,  welcome,  dear  traveler,  welcome!" 

29.  And  some  kind  soul,  that  knew  what  would  have 
pleased  old  Baucis  and  old  Philemon  best,  built  a  circular 
seat  around  both  their  trunks,  where,  for  a  great  while 
afterward,  the  weary,  and  the  hungry,  and  the  thirsty  used 
to  repose  themselves,  and  quaff  milk  abundantly  out  of  the 
miraculous  pitcher. 

30.  And  I  wish,  for  all  our  sakes,  that  we  had  the  pitcher 

here  now!  Nathaniel  Hawthorne. 

Give  in  your  own  words,  a  brief  story  of  The  Miraculous  Pitcher. 


LESSO:^^   XL. 


scam^per 


red^den  shiv'er  mg 

WHAT    THE    WINDS    BRING. 


t 


Edmund  Clarence  Stedman  (1833 — ),  a  native  of  Connecticut,  was  a 
student  at  Yale  College,  and  later  a  journalist.  He  has  written  some  prose 
work,  but  is  better  known  by  his  poetry.  His  last  book,  published  in  1895, 
is  entitled  Victorian  Anthology. 

1.  Which  is  the  wind  that  brings  the  coldf 

The  North  Wind,  Freddy,  and  all  the  snow ; 
And  the  sheep  will  scamper  into  the  fold 
When  the  North  begins  to  blow. 

2.  Which  is  the  wind  that  brings  the  heat? 

The  South  Wind,  Katy ;  and  the  corn  will  grow, 
And  peaches  redden  for  you  to  eat. 
When  the  South  begins  to  blow. 


136 


THE    CRANE    FOURTH   READER. 


3.  Wliicli  is  the  wind  that  brings  the  rain? 

The  East  Wind,  Arty;  and  farmers  know 
That  cows  come  shivering  up  the  lane 
When  the  East  begins  to  blow. 

4.  Which  is  the  wind  that  brings  the  flowers! 

The  West  Wind,  Bessie ;  and  soft  and  low 
The  birdies  sing  in  the  summer  hours 
When  the  West  begins  to  blow. 

Edmund  C.  Stedman. 


ere  ate' 
primal  tive 
ac  tiv'i  ty 
no  biri  ty 
ex  ^ep'tion  al 
tillage 


LESSON  XLI. 

tran  quirii  ty 
a  syliim 
sori  tilde 
grav  i  taction 
corneal  nes5 
par's!  mo  ny 


sorvent 
men'stru  iim 
eoiin'try  man 
gra  tu'i  toils 
ne  ges'si  tie§ 
im  bib'ing 


FARMING. 

Ralph  Waldo  Emerson  (1803-1882).  His 
forefathers  for  eight  generations  were  preachers. 
He  was  educated  at  Harvard  College.  He  was 
twice  married.  He  went  to  Europe  in  1832,  and 
again  in  1847.  He  was  a  lecturer  for  many  years. 
Emerson  wrote  poems  and  essays.  He  is  the  hero 
in  Hawthorne's  story,  The  Great  Stone  Face. 

1.  The  glory  of  the  farmer  is  that, 

in  the  division  of  labor,  it  is  his  part 

to  create.    All  trade  rests  at  last  on 

his    primitive    activity.      He    stands 

close  to  nature ;  he  obtains  from  the  earth  the  bread  and  the 

meat.    The  food  which  was  not,  he  causes  to  be.    The  first 


RALPH   WALDO  EMERSON. 


THE    CKANE   FOURTH   READER.  137 

farmer  was  the  first  man,  and  all  historic  nobility  rests 
on  possession  and  use  of  land. 

2.  Men  do  not  like  hard  work,  but  every  man  has  an 
exceptional  respect  for  tillage,  and  a  feeling  that  this  is 
the  original  calling  of  his  race  —  that  he  himself  is  only 
excused  from  it  by  some  circumstance  which  made  him 
delegate  it  for  a  time  to  other  hands.  If  he  have  not  some 
skill  which  recommends  him  to  the  farmer,  some  product 
for  which  the  farmer  will  give  him  corn,  he  must  himself 
return  into  his  due  place  among  the  planters.  And  the 
profession  has  in  all  eyes  its  ancient  charm,  as  standing 
nearest  to  God,  the  first  cause. 

3.  Then  the  beauty  of  nature,  the  tranquillity  and  inno- 
cence of  the  countryman,  his  independence,  and  his  pleas- 
ing arts  —  the  care  of  bees,  of  poultry,  of  sheep,  of  cows, 
the  dairy,  the  care  of  hay,  of  fruits,  of  orchards  and  for- 
ests, and  the  reaction  of  these  on  the  workman,  in  giving 
him  a  strength  and  plain  dignity,  like  the  face  and  man- 
ners of  nature,  all  men  acknowledge.  All  men  keep  the 
farm  in  reserve  as  an  asylum  where,  in  case  of  mischance, 
to  hide  their  poverty  —  or  a  solitude,  if  they  do  not  suc- 
ceed in  society. 

4.  And  who  knows  how  many  glances  of  remorse  are 
turned  this  way  from  the  bankrupts  of  trade,  from  mor- 
tified pleaders  in  courts  and  senates,  or  from  the  victims 
of  idleness  and  pleasure?  Poisoned  by  town  life  and  town 
vices,  the  sufferer  resolves:  "Well,  my  children,  whom 
I  have  injured,  shall  go  back  to  the  land,  to  be  recruited 
and  cured  by  that  which  should  have  been  their  nursery, 
and  now  shall  be  their  hospital." 

5.  The  farmer's  office  is  precise  and  important,  but  you 


138  THE    CRANE    FOURTH   READER. 

must  not  try  to  paint  him  rose-color;  yon  cannot  make 
pretty  compliments  to  fate  and  gravitation,  whose  min- 
ister he  is.  He  represents  the  necessities.  It  is  the  beanty 
of  the  great  economy  of  the  world  that  makes  his  comeli- 
ness. He  bends  to  the  order  of  the  seasons,  the  weather, 
the  soils,  and  crops,  as  the  sails  of  a  ship  bend  to  the 
wind.  He  represents  continuous  hard  labor,  year  in,  year 
out,  and  small  gains.  He  is  a  slow  person,  timed  to  na- 
ture, and  not  to  city  watches.  He  takes  the  pace  of  sea- 
sons, plants,  and  chemistry. 

6.  Nature  never  hurries ;  atom  by  atom,  little  by  little, 
she  achieves  her  work.  The  lesson  one  learns  in  fishing, 
yachting,  hunting,  or  planting,  is  the  manners  of  nature 
—  patience  with  the  delays  of  wind  and  sun,  delays  of 
the  seasons,  bad  weather,  excess  or  lack  of  water;  pa- 
tience with  the  slowness  of  our  feet,  with  the  parsimony 
of  our  strength,  with  the  largeness  of  sea  and  land  we 
must  traverse.  The  farmer  times  himself  to  Nature,  and 
acquires  that  lifelong  patience  which  belongs  to  her. 

7.  The  earth  works  for  him;  the  earth  is  a  machine 
which  yields  almost  gratuitous  service  to  every  applica- 
tion of  his  intellect. 

Every  plant  is  a  manufacturer  of  soil.  In  the  stomach 
of  the  plant,  development  begins.  The  tree  can  draw  on 
the  whole  air,  the  whole  earth,  on  all  the  rolling  main. 
The  plant  is  all  suction-pipe,  imbibing  from  the  ground 
by  its  root,  from  the  air  by  its  leaves,  with  all  its  might. 

The  air,  too,  works  for  him.  The  atmosphere,  a  sharp 
solvent,  drinks  the  essence  and  spirit  of  every  solid  on 
the  globe  —  the  menstruiim  which  melts  the  mountains  into 
it.    Air  is  matter  subdued  by  heat.    As  the  sea  is  the  re- 


THE    CKANE    FOURTH    READER. 


139 


ceptacle  of  all  rivers,  so  the  air  is  the  receptacle  from 
which  all  things  spring,  and  into  which  they  all  return. 
All  these  forces  the  farmer  uses. 

8.  The  farmer  is  a  hoarded  capital  of  health,  as  the 
farm  is  the  capital  of  wealth ;  and  it  is  from  him  that  the 
health  and  power,  moral  and  intellectual,  of  the  cities 
come.  The  city  is  always  recruited  from  the  country. 
Men  in  cities  who  are  the  centers  of  energy,  the  driving- 
wheels  of  trade,  politics,  or  practical  arts,  the  women  of 
beauty  and  genius,  are  the  children  or  grandchildren 
of  farmers,  and  are  spending  the  energies  which  their 
fathers'  hardy,  silent  life  accumulated  in  frosty  furrows, 
in  poverty,  necessity,  and  darkness. 

9.  The  farmer  is  a  continuous  benefactor.  He  who  digs 
a  well,  constructs  a  stone  fountain,  plants  a  grove  of  trees 
by  the  roadside,  plants  an  orchard,  builds  a  durable  house, 
reclaims  a  swamp,  or  so  much  as  puts  a  stone  seat  by  the 
wayside,  makes  the  land  so  far  lovely  and  desirable,  makes 
a  fortune  which  he  cannot  carry  away  with  him,  but  which 
is  useful  to  his  country  long  afterward. 

Ralph  Waldo  Emerson. 

Tell  three  things  this  author  says  about  farming. 
Grive  five  reasons  why  you  prefer  farm  life. 
Give  five  reasons  why  you  prefer  city  life. 


I 


None  can  describe  the  sweets  of  country  life, 
But  those  blest  men  that  do  enjoy  and  taste  them. 

Their  state  is  fearless  and  secure,  enrich'd 
With  several  blessings,  such  as  greatest  kings 
Might  in  true  justice  envy. 

Secure  and  free  they  pass  their  harmless  hours. 


— May. 

— May. 
—Tate. 


140  THE    CKANE   FOUKTH   KEADER. 


LESSO]Sr  XLII. 


fidg'et  ed  im  po§'ing 

new'eom  er  (nti)  mag^pie  van^ished 

ap'pe  tlt^  iin  eom'fort  a  ble  me^te  or 

AN    OLD-FASHIONED    GIRL. 

1.  Polly  hoped  the  ^'dreadful  boy"  (Tom)  would  not 
be  present ;  but  he  was,  and  stared  at  her  all  dinner-time 
in  a  most  trying  manner. 

2.  Mr.  Shaw,  a  busy-looking  gentleman,  said :  ^^  How  do 
you  do,  my  dear?  Hope  you'll  enjoy  yourself,"  and  then 
appeared  to  forget  her  entirely.  Mrs.  Shaw,  a  pale,  nerv- 
ous woman,  greeted  her  little  guest  kindly,  and  took  care 
that  she  wanted  for  nothing. 

3.  Madam  Shaw,  a  quiet  old  lady,  with  an  imposing  cap, 
exclaimed,  on  seeing  Polly,  ^' Bless  my  heart!  the  image 
of  her  mother  —  a  sweet  woman  —  how  is  she,  dear  1 " 
and  kept  peering  at  the  newcomer  over  her  glasses  till,  be- 
tween Madam  and  Tom,  poor  Polly  lost  her  appetite. 

4.  Her  cousin  Fanny  chatted  like  a  magpie,  and  little 
Maud  fidgeted  till  Tom  proposed  to  put  her  under  the  big 
dish-cover,  which  produced  such  an  explosion  that  the 
young  lady  was  borne  screaming  away  by  the  much- 
enduring  nurse. 

5.  It  was  altogether  an  uncomfortable  dinner,  and  Polly 
was  very  glad  when  it  was  over.  They  all  went  about  their 
own  affairs ;  and,  after  doing  the  honors  of  the  house.  Fan 


THE   CRANE   FOURTH   READER. 


141 


was  called  to  the  dressmaker,  leaving  Polly  to  amuse  her- 
self in  the  great  drawing-room. 

6.  Polly  was  glad  to  be  alone  for  a  few  minutes ;   and, 
having  examined  all  the  pretty  things  about  her,  began  to 
walk  up  and  down  over  the  soft,  flowery  carpet,  humming 
to  herself,  as  the  daylight  faded,  and  only  the  ruddy  glow ' 
of  the  fire  filled  the  room. 

7.  Presently  Madam  came  slowly  in,  and  sat  down  in 
her  armchair,  saying :  "  That 's  a  fine  old  tune ;  sing  it  to 
me,  my  dear.    I  haven't  heard  it  this  many  a  day." 

8.  Polly  didn't  like  to  sing  before  strangers,  for  she  had 
no  teaching  but  such  as  her  busy  mother  could  give  her; 
but  she  had  been  taught  the  utmost  respect  for  old  people, 
and  having  no  reason  for  refusing,  she  directly  went  to  the 
piano  and  did  as  she  was  bid. 

9.  "That's  the  sort  of  music  it's  a  pleasure  to  hear. 
Sing  some  more,  dear,"  said  Madam,  in  her  gentle  way, 
when  she  had  done. 

10.  Pleased  with  this  praise,  Polly  sang  away  in  a  fresh 
little  voice  that  went  straight  to  the  listener's  heart  and 
nestled  there.  The  sweet  old  tunes  that  one  is  never  tired 
of  were  all  Polly's  store.  The  more  she  sung,  the  better 
she  did  it ;  and  when  she  wound  up  with  "A  Health  to  King 
Charlie,"  the  room  quite  rung  with  the  stirring  music  made 
by  the  big  piano  and  the  little  maid. 

11.  "That's  a  jolly  tune!  Sing  it  again,  please,"  cried 
Tom's  voice ;  and  there  was  Tom's  red  head  bobbing  up 
over  the  high  back  of  the  chair  where  he  had  hidden  him- 
self. 


I 


142  THE    CKANE    FOUKTH   KEADER. 

12.  It  gave  Polly  quite  a  turn,  for  she  thought  no  one 
was  hearing  her  but  the  old  lady  dozing  by  the  fire.  "I 
can't  sing  any  more;  I'm  tired,"  she  said,  and  walked 
away  to  Madam  in  the  other  room.  The  red  head  vanished 
like  a  meteor,  for  Polly's  tone  had  been  decidedly  cool. 

13.  The  old  lady  put  out  her  hand,  and,  drawing  Polly 
to  her  knee,  looked  into  her  face  with  such  kind  eyes  that 
Polly  forgot  the  impressive  cap,  and  smiled  at  her  confi- 
dently ;  for  she  saw  that  her  simple  music  had  pleased  her 
listener,  and  she  felt  glad  to  know  it. 

14.  '^  You  must  not  mind  my  staring,  dear,"  said  Madam, 
softly  pinching  her  rosy  cheek ;  "  I  haven't  seen  a  little  girl 
for  so  long,  it  does  my  old  eyes  good  to  look  at  you." 
Polly  thought  that  a  very  odd  speech,  and  couldn't  help 
saying :  "Aren't  Fan  and  Maud  little  girls,  too  I " 

15.  "  Oh,  dear,  no!  not  what  I  call  little  girls.  Fan  has 
been  a  young  lady  this  two  years,  and  Maud  is  a  spoiled 
baby.    Your  mother 's  a  very  sensible  woman,  my  child." 

16.  ''  What  a  queer  old  lady ! "  thought  Polly ;  but  she 
said  "  Yes  'm  "  respectfully,  and  looked  at  the  fire.  "  You 
don't  understand  what  I  mean,  do  you ! "  asked  Madam, 
still  holding  her  by  the  chin.    '^  No  'm ;  not  quite." 

17.  "Well,  dear,  I'll  tell  you.  In  my  day,  children  of 
fourteen  and  fifteen  didn't  dress  in  the  height  of  fashion; 
go  to  parties  as  nearly  like  those  of  grown  people  as  it  is 
possible  to  make  them;  lead  idle,  giddy,  unhealthy  lives, 
and  get  worn  out  at  twenty.  We  were  little  folks  till 
eighteen  or  so;  worked  and  studied,  dressed  and  played, 
like  children;  honored  our  parents;  and  our  days  were 
much  longer  in  the  land  than  now,  it  seems  to  me." 


THE   CRAKE   FOURTH   READER. 


US 


18.  The  old  lady  appeared  to  forget  Polly  at  the  end  of 
her  speech,  for  she  sat  patting  the  plump  little  hand  that 
lay  in  her  own,  and  looking  up  at  a  faded  picture  of  an  old 
gentleman  with  a  ruffled  shirt  and  a  queue. 

19.  "Was  he  your  father.  Madam!"  asked  Polly. 

20.  "  Yes,  my  dear ;  my  honored  father.  I  did  up  his 
frills  to  the  day  of  his  death ;  and  the  first  money  I  ever 
earned  was  ^ve  dollars  which  he  offered  as  a  prize  to 
whichever  of  his  six  girls  would  lay  the  handsomest  darn 
in  his  silk  stockings." 

21.  "How  proud  you  must  have  been!"  cried  Polly, 
leaning  on  the  old  lady's  knee  with  an  interested  face. 

22.  "Yes;  and  we  all  learned  to  make  bread,  and  cook, 
•and  wore  little  chintz  gowns,  and  were  as  gay  and  hearty 
I  as  kittens.  All  lived  to  be  grandmothers;  and  I'm  the 
[last  —  seventy  next  birthday,  my  dear,  and  not  worn  out 
[yet;  though  daughter  Shaw  is  an  invalid  at  forty." 

23.  "  That 's  the  way  I  was  brought  up,  and  that 's  why 
(Fan  calls  me  old-fashioned,  I  suppose.  Tell  more  about 
your  papa,  please;  I  like  it,"  said  Polly. 

24.  "  Say  '  father.'  We  never  called  him  papa ;  and  if 
tone  of  my  brothers  had  addressed  him  as  'governor,'  as 
[boys  now  do,  I  really  think  he  'd  have  cut  him  off  with  a 
tshilling." 


I 


144 


THE   CRANE   FOURTH   READER. 


LESSOlSr   XLIII. 


heigh' -ho 

wat'gmg 

mu§'mg 

da^^§le§ 

€uck^6o-bM§ 

lei^sure 

biit^ter  ciips 

eow'slips 

(le'zhur) 

JEAN   INGELOW. 


SEVEN    TIMES    FOUR. 

Jean  Ingelow  (1820-1897)  was  an  English- 
woman. She  wrote  both  poetry  and  prose,  but 
she  is  better  known  by  the  former.  Many  of 
her  poems  have  been  set  to  music.  Among  her 
well-known  writings  are  the  group  of  verses 
called  Songs  of  Seven,  Divided,  and  High  Tide 
on  the  Coast  of  Lincolnshire. 

1.  Heigh-ho!   daisies  and  buttercups, 
Fair    yellow    daffodils,     stately 
and  tall! 
When   tlie   wind   wakes   how   tliey 
rock  in  the  grasses, 
And  dance  with  the  cuckoo-buds  slender  and  small ! 
Here 's  two  bonny  boys,  and  here 's  mother's  own  lasses, 
Eager  to  gather  them  all. 

Heigh-ho !  daisies  and  buttercups ! 

Mother  shall  thread  them  a  daisy  chain; 
Sing  them  a  song  of  the  pretty  hedge-sparrow, 

That  loved  her  brown  little  ones,  loved  them  full  fain ; 
Sing,  ''Heart,  thou  art  wide  though  the  house  be  but 
narrow," — 

Sing  once,  and  sing  it  again. 


THE    CRANE   FOURTH   READER. 


145 


3.  Heigh-ho!  daisies  and  buttercups, 

Sweet  wagging  cowslips,  they  bend  and  they  bow ; 
A  ship  sails  afar  over  warm  ocean  waters. 

And  haply  one  musing  doth  stand  at  her  prow. 
0  bonny  brown  sons,  and  0  sweet  little  daughters, 

Maybe  he  thinks  on  you  now ! 

4.  Heigh-ho !  daisies  and  buttercups. 

Fair  yellow  daffodils,  stately  and  tall  — 
A  sunshiny  world  full  of  laughter  and  leisure. 

And  fresh  hearts  unconscious  of  sorrow  and  thrall! 
Send  down  on  their  pleasure  smiles  passing  its  meas- 
ure,— 

God  is  over  us  all ! 

Jean  Ingelow. 


Age  is  opportunity  no  less 
Than  youth  itself,  though  in  another  dress; 
And  as  the  evening  twilight  fades  away 
The  sky  is  filled 'with  stars  invisible  by  day. 

These  winter  nights,  against  my  window-pane 
Nature  with  busy  pencil  draws  designs 
Of  ferns  and  blossoms,  and  of  fine  spray  pines. 
Oak  leaf  and  acorn  and  fantastic  vines. 
Which  she  will  make  when  summer  comes  again 
Quaint  arabesques  in  argent,  flat  and  cold, 
Cike  curious  Chinese  etchings. 

The  river  knows  the  way  to  the  sea; 
Without  pilot  it  runs  and  falls, 
Blessing  the  land  with  all  its  charity. 

Invisible  and  silent  stands 

The  temple  never  made  with  hands. 


Longfellow. 


T.  B.  Aldrich. 


Emerson. 


Whittier. 


146  THE   CRANE   EOURTH:  READER. 


LESSO:Nr  XLIY. 

showier  f  ha'zd  beech Vd6d 

bon^ny  dim^pkd  wik§ 

LITTLE    BELL. 

1.  Piped  the  Blackbird,  on  the  Beechwood  spray, 
"  Pretty  maid,  slow  wandering  this  way. 

What's  your  name?"  quoth  he. 
"  What 's  your  name !    Oh,  stop  and  straight  unfold. 
Pretty  maid,  with  showery  curls  of  gold." 

"  Little  Bell,"  said  she. 

2.  Little  Bell  sat  down  beneath  the  rocks, 
Tossed  aside  her  gleaming,  golden  locks. 

"Bonny  bird!"  quoth  she, 
"  Sing  me  your  best  song,  before  I  go." 
"  Here 's  the  very  finest  song  I  know, 

Little  Bell,"  said  he. 

3.  And  the  Blackbird  piped  —  you  never  heard 
Half  so  gay  a  song  from  any  bird ; 

Full  of  quips  and  wiles. 
Now  so  round  and  rich,  now  soft  and  slow,     • 
All  for  love  of  that  sweet  face  below, 

Dimpled  o'er  with  smiles. 

4.  And  the  while  that  bonny  bird  did  pour 
His  full  heart  out,  freely,  o'er  and  o'er, 

'Neath  the  morning  skies. 


THE   CEANE   FOURTH   READER.  147 

In  the  little  childisli  heart  below 
All  the  sweetness  seemed  to  grow  and  grow, 
And  shine  forth  in  happy  overflow 
From  the  brown,  bright  eyes. 

5.  Down  the  dell  she  tripped,  and  through  the  glade  — 
Peeped  the  squirrel  from  the  hazel-shade, 

And  from  out  the  tree 
Swung  and  leaped  and  frolicked,  void  of  fear, 
While  bold  Blackbird  piped,  that  all  might  hear, 
^^  Little  Bell!  "piped  he. 

6.  Little  Bell  sat  down  amid  the  fern : 

"  Squirrel,  Squirrel !  to  your  task  return ! 

Bring  me  nuts ! "  quoth  she. 
Up,  away !  the  frisky  Squirrel  hies. 
Golden  wood-lights  glancing  in  his  eyes. 

And  adown  the  tree. 
Great  ripe  nuts,  kissed  brown  by  July  sun. 
In  the  little  lap  drop,  one  by  one  — 
Hark !  how  Blackbird  pipes,  to  see  the  fun ! 

^^Happy  Bell ! ''  pipes  he. 

7.  Little  Bell  looked  up  and  down  the  glade : 

''  Squirrel,  Squirrel,  from  the  nut-tree  shade. 
Bonny  Blackbird,  if  you  're  not  afraid. 

Come  and  share  with  me ! '' 
Down  came  Squirrel,  eager  for  his  fare, 
Down  came  bonny  Blackbird,  I  declare; 
Little  Bell  gave  each  his  honest  share  — 

Ah !  the  merry  three ! 


148  THE    CRANE   FOURTH   READER. 

8.  And  the  while  those  frolic  playmates  twain 
Piped  and  frisked  from  bough  to  bough  again, 

'Neath  the  morning  skies, 
In  the  little  childish  heart  below. 
All  the  sweetness  seemed  to  grow  and  grow, 
And  shine  out  in  happy  overflow. 

From  her  brown,  bright  eyes. 

9.  By  her  snow-white  cot,  at  close  of  day. 
Knelt  sweet  Bell,  with  folded  palms,  to  pray. 

Very  calm  and  clear 
Rose  the  praying  voice,  to  where,  unseen, 
In  blue  heaven,  an  angel  shape  serene 

Paused  awhile  to  hear. 

10.  "  Wliat  good  child  is  this,"  the  angel  said, 
'^  That,  with  happy  heart,  beside  her  bed, 

Prays  so  lovingly? " 
Low  and  soft,  oh,  very  low  and  soft. 
Crooned  the  Blackbird  in  the  orchard  croft, 
"  Bell,  dear  Bell ! "  crooned  he. 

11.  ^^  Whom  God's  creatures  love,"  the  angel  fair 
Murmured,  "God  doth  bless  with  angels'  care; 

Child,  thy  bed  shall  be 
Folded  safe  from  harm ;  love,  deep  and  kind. 
Shall  watch  round  and  leave  good  gifts  behind. 

Little  Bell,  for  thee." 

Thomas  Westwood. 


THE    CRANE    FOUETH    READER. 


149 


LESSON  XLY. 


€011  fu^sion  (zhun) 
€011  vinged^ 
mis^cliie  voils  ly 
wick'ed 


S€ari6p 
a  poro  gize 
nes't\e 
fur^nish  mg 


nm  sange 
han(?'ker  chiefs 
€011  je€'ture§ 
€ll^ent 


THE    PET    SQUIRREL. 


1.  About  a  dozen  years  ago,  the  workmen  who  were 
tearing  down  some  old  houses  in  New  York  city,  so  as  to 
put  up  better  ones,  noticed  a  large  black  squirrel  leaping 
from  place  to  place,  and  running  over  the  floors  of  the  old 
buildings.  He  seemed  to  have  been  left  by  his  owners, 
and  puzzled  by  the  confusion  around  him. 

2.  They  set  a  common  rat-trap  for  him  and  caught  him, 
and  one  of  their  number  took  him  home  to  his  children. 
There  he  attracted  the  attention  of  my  grandmother,  who 
had  a  very  warm  corner  in  her  heart  for  all  dumb  animals, 
and  she  persuaded  my  father  to  buy  the  squirrel  of  the 
children  and  bring  him  home  to  us.  The  poor  creature 
had  worn  his  back  bare  by  constant  rubbing  against  the 
wires  of  the  trap. 

3.  My  father  bought  a  very  large  cage  in  which  Bob 
was  given  more  liberty,  to  his  great  satisfaction.  How 
much  he  enjoyed  the  snug  house  and  its  warm  bed,  it  would 
be  hard  to  tell.  At  first  he  was  very  naughty,  and  no  one 
dared  to  put  a  finger  through  the  bars,  though  it  held  the 
nicest  nuts  ever  eaten  by  a  squirrel. 

4.  But  slowly  the  little  fellow  became  convinced  that  he 
had  nothing  to  fear,  and  began  to  show  signs  of  great 


150  THE    CKANE    FOURTH    EEADER. 

friendliness.  He  would  take  one's  finger  in  his  mouth,  and 
setting  his  tiny  sharp  teeth,  white  as  the  whitest  ivory, 
would  look  out  of  his  black  eyes  with  a  most  mischievously 
wicked  expression,  but  for  all  his  seeming  intention  he 
would  hold  the  finger  as  gently  as  if  it  were  his  own  tongue. 

5.  About  this  time  we  opened  the  cage  and  allowed  him 
to  run  about  the  room,  and  then  began  the  fun  of  finding 
nuts,  after  he,  true  to  his  instincts,  had  hidden  them  away. 
We  would  find  them  in  mother's  work-basket;  in  one  of 
our  book-satchels,  where,  indeed,  he  often  took  a  cozy  nap ; 
inside  of  drawers,  and  in  the  corners  of  the  sofa  and  cush- 
ioned chairs;  behind  the  clock;  in  shoes;  indeed,  in  all 
sorts  of  places.  Then,  too,  began  the  trouble  he  made  by 
biting  books  and  tearing  things. 

6.  I  think  now,  if  I  should  go  home  to  the  old  house,  I 
might  find  on  the  top  shelf,  among  ^^the  children's  old 
books,"  the  first  one  I  ever  owned,  with  a  big  scallop  taken 
out  of  it  by  his  sharp  teeth.  What  merry  struggles  we 
had  over  the  old  rag  which  Bob  would  carry  to  the  door 
of  his  cage,  where  we  would  try  to  take  it  away  from  him. 
His  hair  had  now  grown  out  again,  and  a  finer-looking 
fellow  could  not  be  seen. 

7.  He  was  very  large,  black  as  coal,  and  his  tail  —  ah ! 
Bob,  you  know  you  were  proud  because  it  was  so  long 
and  bushy !  Every  day  he  showed  more  love  for  his  home 
and  for  the  family,  though  his  favorite  was  my  father, 
who  really  loved  the  little  black  creature,  and  used  to 
apologize  for  it  by  saying  that  he  had  ^^  a  warm  sympathy 
for  all  the  race." 

8.  Every  night,  when  father  came  home  and  lay  down 


THE    CRANE    FOURTH    READER. 


161 


on  the  sofa  to  take  his  evening  nap,  Bob  would  search 
every  pocket  for  the  nuts  he  was  sure  to  find;  then  he 
would  eat  them  sitting  on  his  master's  head,  shoulder, 
arm,  or  leg,  as  the  fancy  took  him,  and  then  creep  in  be- 
tween his  friend's  vest  and  shirt-bosom  and  nestle  down, 
a  little  furry  ball,  to  keep  my  father  company  in  his  nap. 

9.  I  fear  he  took  a  great  many  liberties  with  his  friends 
and  their  things.  I  know  he  even  went  so  far  as  to  drink 
from  the  water-pitcher,  and  very  funny  he  looked  as  he 
ran  up  the  handle  and  down  into  the  water,  which  was  so 
low  that  nothing  but  his  hind  feet  and  tail  could  be  seen. 

10.  But  one  morning  we  did  not  find  him  in  his  cage, 
where  he  always  slept  at  night,  and  we  searched  all  day 
and  the  next,  but  still  no  Bob  could  be  found.  For  two 
weeks  we  had  given  him  up,  when  one  day,  as  Bridget 
was  coming  downstairs  we  heard  her  scream,  rush  up 
again  and  across  the  floor. 

11.  Hurrying  up,  we  found  her  in  a  corner  by  the  chim- 
ney, and  there  we  saw  our  pet  in  a  cozy  new  nest,  where 
he  had  begun  keeping  house  for  himself.  I  am  sorry  to 
say  that  the  furnishing  of  the  new  house  had  not  been 
carried  out  on  strict  rules  of  honesty. 

12.  He  had  been  seen  by  Bridget,  who  had  met  him  com- 
ing out  of  the  sitting-room  with  a  pair  of  stockings  out  of 
mother's  work-basket.  There  was  found  in  his  nest  a  fine 
lace  collar  which  had  gone  into  the  wash  but  never  came 
out  —  by  hands.  There  was  a  mitten  that  had  caused  Bert 
more  than  one  tear. 

13.  There  was  an  old  silk  dust-cloth  greatly  valued  by 
Bridget,  and  because  of  its  loss  she  had  been  very  angry, 


152  THE    CRANE    FOURTH   READER. 

and  said,  ^^  Children  are  nuisances  ^' ;  we  told  lier  we  were 
innocent,  and  she  said,  ''  Things  don't  go  without  hands," 
though  at  that  moment  she  had  proof  that  they  do,  some- 
times. 

14.  There  were  also  several  handkerchiefs,  to  whom  be- 
longing could  be  easily  told  by  certain  black  stains,  show- 
ing how  useful  they  had  been  found  in  wiping  slates. 
Our  delight  at  finding  Bob  was  very  great,  and  we  carried 
him  downstairs  in  triumph,  and  did  not  let  him  come  up 
again  till  bedtime. 

15.  The  summer  came  and  he  found  climbing  the  trees 
very  much  to  his  liking,  and  sometimes  he  found  his  way 
out  into  the  street.  Here  he  always  attracted  the  attention 
of  the  boys,  who  felt  obliged,  as  New  York  boys  always  do, 
to  stone  him.  But  the  quick  little  fellow  managed  to  keep 
clear  of  them,  and  generally  found  a  friend  to  take  his 
part  and  put  an  end  to  the  attack.  He  made  many  friends 
in  the  street,  and  was  welcome  in  many  houses. 

16.  This  free  life  awoke  in  him  all  the  powers  for  which 
he  had  no  use  in  the  life  he  led  in  the  cage,  so  when  au- 
tumn came  he  set  himself  to  find  a  nest  for  the  winter. 
A  servant  in  one  of  the  houses  several  doors  from  us  had 
made  a  great  pet  of  him.  She  slept  in  a  low  room,  and 
on  getting  into  bed  one  cool  autumn  night  her  feet  touched 
something  warm  and  furry,  which  caused  her  to  spring 
out  again,  and  on  examination  she  found  between  the  sheets 
our  Bob,  with  an  air  of  great  satisfaction  in  having  done 
such  a  good  thing  for  himself.  All  that  winter  he  slept 
at  her  feet,  to  her  great  comfort  as  well  as  his  own. 

17.  We  saw  him  every  day,  but  he  led  a  free,  wild  life, 


THE    CKANE    FOURTH   READER. 


158 


and  was  happy  in  it.  We  missed  him,  but  so  complete 
was  our  sympathy  with  him  we  could  give  up  our  own 
pleasure,  very  willingly,  for  his.  But  there  was  danger  in 
this,  and  one  day  he  did  not  come  for  his  nuts  and  usual 
play,  his  bedfellow  slept  with  cold  feet,  and  we  never  saw^ 
or  heard  of  him  again.  Our  conjectures  have  been  many, 
but  I  doubt  if  they  ever  came  anywhere  near  the  truth. 

18.  But  he  still  lives  in  our  memories,  and  many  a 
laugh  we  have  over  his  old  tricks  to  this  day,  though  the 
Bert  of  my  story  is  six  feet  high,  and  talks  about  clients, 
and  briefs,  and  another  little  Bert  tumbles  on  my  nursery 
floor,  on  which  is  lying  an  India-rubber  squirrel  which  he 
calls  Bob,  for  the  black  beauty  of  happy  memory. 


Laughing  cheerfulness  throws  sunlight  on  the  path  of  life. — Riciiter. 
A  man's  task  is  always  light  if  his  heart  is  light. —  Lew  Wallace. 
Life  is  not  so  short  but  there  is  always  time  for  courtesy. — Emerson. 

Prayer  is  the  soul's  sincere  desire, 

Uttered  or  unexpressed, — 
The  motion  of  a  hidden  fire 

That  trembles  in  the  breast. 

James  Montgomery, 

Some  feelings  are  to  mortals  given, 

With  less  of  earth  in  them  than  heaven; 

And  if  there  be  a  human  tear 

From  passion's  dross  refined  and  clear, 

A  tear  so  limpid  and  so  meek 

It  would  not  stain  an  angel's  cheek, 

'Tis  that  which  pious  fathers  shed, 

Upon  a  dutious  daughter's  head.  Scott. 


164  THE    CRANE    FOURTH   READER. 


LESSON    XLYI. 

hav^oe  seiilp^tor  (ter)  eon^sti  ttite 

un  eov^er  lin^e  age  fae'iil  ty 

BOSTON    HYMN. 

(Read  in  Music  Hall,  January  1,  1863.) 

1.  The  word  of  the  Lord  by  night 

To  the  watching  Pilgrims  came, 
As  they  sat  by  the  seaside, 
And  filled  their  hearts  with  flame. 

2.  God  said,  I  am  tired  of  kings, 

I  suffer  them  no  more; 
Up  to  my  ear  the  morning  brings 
The  outrage  of  the  poor. 

3.  Think  ye  I  made  this  ball 

A  field  of  havoc  and  war, 
Where  tyrants  great  and  tyrants  small 
Might  harry  the  weak  and  poor? 

4.  My  angel  —  his  name  is  Freedom  — 

Choose  him  to  be  your  king; 
He  shall  cnt  pathways  east  and  west, 
And  fend  you  with  his  wing. 

5.  Lo!  I  uncover  the  land 

Which  I  hid  of  old  time  in  the  West, 
As  the  sculptor  uncovers  the  statue 
When  he  has  wrought  his  best; 


I 


THE    CRANE   FOURTH   READER.  156 

6.  I  will  divide  my  goods ; 

Call  in  the  wretch  and  slave; 
None  shall  rule  but  the  humble, 
And  none  but  toil  shall  have. 

7.  I  will  have  never  a  noble, 

No  lineage  counted  great; 
Fishers  and  choppers  and  plowmen 
Shall  constitute  a  state. 

8.  Go,  cut  down  trees  in  the  forest 

And  trim  the  straightest  boughs ; 
Cut  down  trees  in  the  forest 
And  build  me  a  wooden  house. 

9.  Call  the  people  together, 

The  young  men  and  the  sires, 
The  digger  in  the  harvest-field, 
Hireling  and  him  that  hires ; 

10.  And  here  in  a  pine  state-house 

They  shall  choose  men  to  rule 
In  every  needful  faculty. 
In  church  and  state  and  school. 

11.  I  cause  from  every  creature 

His  proper  good  to  flow: 
As  much  as  he  is  and  doeth, 
So  much  he  shall'  bestow. 

Ralph  Waldo  Emebson. 

Why  are  kings  no  longer  looked  upon  with  awe? 
Is  there  in  fact  any  need  for  kings  anywhere? 
Is  not  an  American  citizen  greater  than  any  king? 


156 


THE    CRANE    FOURTH    READER. 


LESSOR   XLYII. 


0€  ea^sion  al  1^  (zMn) 
pre  ma  tuiT^ly 
or  ni  thoro  gy 
in^flu  eng  e§ 


hi  lar'i  t^ 
pre  ten'sion§ 
ger^tain  1^ 


de  s^ribed^ 
plain^tive 
ves^per 
mat^in 


THE    BIRDS  OF   SPRING. 


WASHINGTON   IRVING. 


Washington  Irving  (1783-1859),  called  the 
Father  of  American  Letters,  v^as  born  in  New 
York  city.  Owing  to  ill-health  he  did  not  attend 
school  regularly,  and  had  no  college  training. 
He  was  very  fond  of  books  and  of  travel.  He 
went  to  Europe  for  his  health,  in  1804,  and 
again  in  1815.  He  was  the  first  American  to 
receive  general  recognition  as  a  writer.  He 
never  married.  The  last  years  of  his  life  he 
spent  at  "  Sunnyside,"  his  beautiful  country 
home  on  the  Hudson  river,  near  Tarrytown, 
New  York. 


1.  Those  who  have  passed  the  winter  in  the  country  are 
sensible  of  the  delightful  influences  that  accompany  the 
earliest  indications  of  spring ;  and  of  these,  none  are  more 
delightful  than  the  first  notes  of  the  birds. 

2.  There  is  one  modest  little  dark-colored  bird,  much 
resembling  a  wren,  which  came  about  the  house  just  on 
the  skirts  of  winter,  when  not  a  blade  of  grass  was  to  be 
seen,  and  when  a  few  prematurely  warm  days  had  given 
a  flattering  foretaste  of  soft  weather.  He  sang  early  in 
the  dawning,  long  before  sunrise,  and  late  in  the  evening, 
just  before  the  closing  in  of  night,  his  matin  and  his  ves- 
per hymns. 

3.  It  is  true  he  sang  occasionally  throughout  the  day; 


THE    CEANE   FOUETH   EEADEE. 


157 


but  at  these  still  hours  his  song  was  more  marked.  He 
sat  on  a  leafless  tree,  just  before  the  window,  and  warbled 
forth  his  notes,  free  and  simple,  but  singularly  sweet,  with 
something  of  a  plaintive  tone  that  heightened  their  effect. 
The  first  morning  that  he  was  heard  was  a  joyous  one 
among  the  young  folks  of  my  household. 

4.  The  long,  deathlike  sleep  of  winter  was  at  an  end; 
nature  was  once  more  awakening.  They  now  promised 
themselves  an  immediate  appearance  of  buds  and  blos- 
soms. A  sharp  return  of  winter  almost  silenced  my  little 
songster,  and  dashed  the  hilarity  of  the  household;  yet 
still  he  poured  forth,  now  and  then,  a  few  plaintive  notes, 
between  the  frosty  pipings  of  the  breeze,  like  gleams  of 
sunshine  between  wintry  clouds. 

5.  I  have  consulted  my  book  of  ornithology  in  vain  to 
find  the  name  of  this  kindly  little  bird,  who  certainly  de- 
serves honor  and  favor  far  beyond  his  modest  pretensions. 
He  comes  like  the  lowly  violet,  the  most  unpretending 
but  welcomest  of  flowers,  breathing  the  sweet  promise  of 
the  early  year. 

6.  About  this  time,  too,  arrives  the  bluebird;  so  poeti- 
cally, yet  truly,  described  by  Wilson.  His  appearance 
gladdens  the  whole  landscape.  You  hear  his  soft  warble 
in  every  field.  He  sociably  aproaches  your  habitation, 
and  takes  up  his  residence  in  your  vicinity. 

Washington  Irving. 


Every  copse 
Deep  tangled,  tree  irregular,  and  bush 
Bending  with  dewy  moisture,  o'er  the  heads 
Of  the  coy  quiristers  that  lodge  within, 
Are  prodigal  with  harmony. 


-Thompson. 


158  THE   CKANE   FOURTH   READER. 


LESSON^  XLVIII. 


vo  liip'tu  a  ry  var'let  en  am'ekd 

m  tel  lee'tvL  al  iir^cliin  sue  ges'sion 

m  diiVgenQe  riis^tie  myr^i  ad§ 

gas  tro  nom^ie  vi^brate  pur'ga  to  ry 

THE    BOBOLINK. 

1.  The  happiest  bird  of  our  spring,  and  one  that  rivals 
the  European  lark,  in  my  estimation,  is  the  boblincoln,  or 
bobolink,  as  he  is  commonly  called.  He  arrives  in  New 
York  in  the  latter  part  of  May  or  the  first  of  June,  when 
Nature  is  in  all  her  freshness  and  fragrance;  ^'the  rains 
are  over  and  gone,  the  flowers  appear  upon  the  earth,  the 
time  of  the  singing  of  birds  is  come,  and  the  voice  of  the 
turtle  is  heard  in  the  land." 

2.  The  trees  are  now  in  their  fullest  foliage  and  brightest 
verdure ;  the  woods  are  gay  with  the  clustered  flowers  of 
the  laurel;  the  air  is  perfumed  by  the  sweet-brier  and 
the  wild  rose ;  the  meadows  are  enameled  with  clover-blos- 
soms ;  while  the  young  apple,  the  peach  and  the  plum  be- 
gin to  swell,  and  the  cherry  to  glow,  among  the  green 
leaves.  This  is  the  chosen  season  of  revelry  of  the  bobo- 
link.    " 

3.  He  comes  amidst  the  pomp  and  fragrance  of  the 
season;  his  life  seems  all  sensibility  and  enjoyment,  all 
song  and  sunshine.  He  is  to  be  found  in  the  soft  bosoms 
of  the  freshest  and  sweetest  meadows;  and  is  most  in 
song  when  the  clover  is  in  blossom.  He  perches  on  the 
topmost  twig  of  a  tree,  or  on  some  flaunting  weed,  and,  as 
he  rises  and  sinks  with  the  breeze,  pours  forth  a  succes- 


THE   CEANE   FOURTH   READER. 


169 


sion  of  rich,  tinkling  notes,  crowding  one  upon  another, 
like  the  outpouring  melody  of  the  skylark,  and  possess- 
ing the  same  rapturous  character. 

4.  Sometimes  he  pitches  from  the  summit  of  a  tree,  be- 
gins his  song  as  soon  as  he  gets  upon  the  wing,  and  flut- 
ters tremulously  down  to  the  earth  as  if  overcome  with 
ecstacy  at  his  own  music.  Sometimes  he  is  in  pursuit 
of  his  mate ;  always  in  full  song,  as  if  he  would  win  her 
by  his  melody,  and  always  with  the  same  appearance  of 
intoxication  and  delight. 

5.  Of  all  the  birds  of  our  groves  and  meadows,  the  bobo- 
link was  the  envy  of  my  boyhood.  He  crossed  my  path 
in  the  sweetest  weather  and  the  sweetest  season  of  the 
year,  when  all  nature  called  to  the  fields,  and  the  rural 
feeling  throbbed  in  every  bosom,  but  when  I  —  luckless 
urchin !  —  was  doomed  to  be  mewed  up  during  the  live- 
long day  in  that  purgatory  of  boyhood,  a  schoolroom; 
it  seemed  as  if  the  little  varlet  mocked  at  me,  as  he  flew 
by  in  full  song,  and  sought  to  taunt  me  with  his  happier 
lot. 

6.  Oh,  how  I  envied  him !  No  lessons,  no  tasks,  no  hate- 
ful school;  nothing  but  holiday,  frolic,  green  fields,  and 
fine  weather.  Further  observation  and  experience  have 
given  me  a  different  idea  of  this  feathered  voluptuary, 
which  I  will  venture  to  impart  for  the  benefit  of  my  school- 
boy readers,  who  may  regard  him  with  the  same  unquali- 
fied envy  and  admiration  which  I  once  indulged. 

7.  I  have  shown  him  only  as  I  saw  him  at  first,  in  what 
I  may  call  the  poetical  part  of  his  career,  when  he  in  a 
manner  devoted  himself  to  elegant  pursuits  and  enjoy- 
ments, and  was  a  bird  of  music,  and  song,  and  taste,  and 


160  THE    CRANE   FOURTH   READER. 

sensibility,  and  refinement.  While  this  lasted  he  was  sa- 
cred from  injury;  the  very  school-boy  would  not  fling  a 
stone  at  him,  and  the  merest  rustic  would  pause  to  listen 
to  his  strain.    But  mark  the  difference. 

8.  As  the  year  advances,  as  the  clover-blossoms  disap- 
pear and  the  spring  fades  into  summer,  he  gradually  gives 
up  his  elegant  tastes  and  habits,  doffs  his  poetical  suit  of 
black,  assumes  a  russet,  dusty  garb,  and  sinks  to  the  gross 
enjoyments  of  common  vulgar  birds.  His  notes  uo  longer 
vibrate  on  the  ear;  he  is  stuffing  himself  with  the  seeds 
of  the  tall  weeds  on  which  he  lately  swung  and  chanted 
so  melodiously. 

9.  He  has  become  a  "  bon  vivant "  ^  a  '^  gourmand  " ;  with 
him  now  there  is  nothing  like  the  "joys  of  the  table."  In 
a  little  while  he  grows  tired  of  plain,  homely  fare,  and  is 
off  on  a  gastronomical  tour  in  quest  of  foreign  luxuries. 
We  next  hear  of  him,  with  myriads  of  his  kind,  banqueting 
among  the  reeds  of  Delaware,  and  grown  corpulent  with 
good  feeding. 

10.  He  has  changed  his  name  in  traveling  —  boblincoln 
no  more ;  he  is  the  reed-bird  now,  the  much-sought-f or  tit- 
bit of  Pennsylvania  epicures;  the  rival  in  unlucky  fame 
with  the  ortolan.  Wherever  he  goes  —  pop!  pop!  pop! 
—  every  rusty  firelock  in  the  country  is  blazing  away.  He 
sees  his  companions  falling  by  thousands  around  him. 

11.  Does  he  take  warning  and  reform  I  Alas!  not  he. 
Incorrigible  epicure !  again  he  wings  his  flight.  The  rice- 
swamps  of  the  South  invite  him.  He  gorges  himself 
among  them  almost  to  bursting;  he  can  scarcely  fly  for 

1 A  high  liver;  an  epicure. 


THE   CRANE   FOUETH   READER.  161 

corpulency.  He  has  once  more  changed  his  name,  and 
is  now  the  famous  rice-bird  of  the  Carolinas.  Last  stage 
of  his  career ;  behold  him  spitted  with  dozens  of  his  cor- 
pulent companions,  and  served  up,  a  vaunted  dish,  on  the 
table  of  some  Southern  gastronome. 

12.  Such  is  the  story  of  the  bobolink;  once  spiritual, 
musical,  admired;  the  joy  of  the  meadows,  and  the  fa- 
vorite bird  of  spring ;  finally,  a  gross  little  sensualist,  who 
expiates  his  sensuality  in  the  larder.  His  story  contains 
a  moral  worthy  the  attention  of  all  little  birds  and  little 
boys,  warning  them  to  keep  to  those  refined  and  intel- 
lectual pursuits  which  raised  him  to  so  high  a  pitch  of 
popularity  during  the  early  part  of  his  career,  but  to 
eschew  all  tendency  to  that  gross  and  dissipated  indul- 
gence which  brought  this  mistaken  little  bird  to  an  un- 
timely end. 

Washington  Ibving. 

Name  some  signs  of  spring. 

Mention  birds  you  have  seen  in  early  spring.    Which  is  your  favorite? 

What  is  meant  by  "  matin  and  vesper  hymns  "  ? 

Have  you  ever  seen  the  meadows  "  enameled  with  clover -blossoms  "  ? 

How  did  they  look? 

Write  a  short  story  about  the  bobolink,  telling  how  it  changes  its  habits, 
and  why  it  is  like  the  ortolan. 

Can  you  think  of  any  other  of  God's  creatures  that  might  become  a 
gourmand  ? 


The  broad  blue  mountains  lift  their  brows 

Barely  to  bathe  them  in  the  blaze; 

The  bobolinks  from  silence  rouse 

And    flash    along   melodious    ways!  — Spofford. 


1 

I 


—11 


162 


THE   CEANE   FOTJETH   BEADEE. 


LESSOI^  XLIX. 


^or^al 


€or  6  nal 


THE    PEARL-DIVER. 

Felicia  Dorothea  Hemans  (1793-1835)  was 
born  at  Liverpool,  England,  and  died  at  Dublin, 
Ireland.  Her  first  book  of  poems  was  published 
when  she  was  only  fourteen  years  old.  She  spent 
most  of  her  life  in  Lancashire.  She  wrote  too 
much  to  write  very  well,  but  she  has  many  pleas- 
ing lines  in  her  poems.  One  of  her  best-known 
selections  is  The  Landing  of  the  Pilgrim  Fathers. 


FELICIA  D.  HEMANS. 


1.  Thou  hast  been  where  the  rocks  of  coral  grow, 

Thou  hast  fought  with  eddying  waves ; 
Thy  cheek  is  pale,  and  thy  heart  beats  low, 
Thou  searcher  of  ocean's  caves ! 

2.  Thou  hast  looked  on  the  gleaming  wealth  of  old. 

And  wrecks  where  the  brave  have  striven ; 
The  deep  is  a  strong  and  fearful  hold, 
But  thou  its  bar  hast  riven ! 

3.  A  wild  and  weary  life  is  thine, 

A  wasting  task  and  lone ; 
Though  treasure-grots  for  thee  may  shine, 
To  all  besides  unknown. 

4.  A  weary  life!  but  a  swift  decay 

Soon,  soon  shall  set  thee  free ! 
Thou  'rt  passing  fast  from  thy  toils  away. 
Thou  wrestler  with  the  sea! 


II 


THE    CEANE   FOURTH   READER. 

5.  In  thy  dim  eye,  on  thy  hollow  cheek, 

Well  are  the  death-signs  read ; 
Go,  for  the  pearl  in  its  cavern  seek, 
Ere  hope  and  power  be  fled. 

6.  And  bright  in  beauty's  coronal 

That  glistening  gem  shall  be ; 
A  star  to  all  the  festive  hall  — 
But  who  shall  think  on  thee? 

7.  None ;  —  as  it  gleams  from  the  queen-like  head. 

Not  one,  'mid  throngs,  will  say, 
"A  life  hath  been  like  a  rain-drop  shed, 
For  that  pale  and  quivering  ray." 

8.  Woe  for  the  wealth  thus  dearly  bought !  — 

And  are  not  those  like  thee. 
Who  win  for  earth,  the  gems  of  thought? 
0  wrestler  with  the  sea ! 

9.  Down  to  the  gulfs  of  the  soul  they  go, 

Where  the  passion-fountains  burn, 
Gathering  the  jewels  far  below, 
From  many  a  buried  urn : 

10.  Wringing  from  lava-veins  the  fire 

That  o'er  bright  words  is  poured; 
Learning  deep  sounds,  to  make  the  lyre 
A  spirit  in  each  chord. 

11.  But  oh!  the  price  of  bitter  tears. 

Paid  for  the  lonely  power. 
That  throws  at  last,  o'er  desert  years, 
A  darkly  glorious  dower ! 


163 


164  THE   CRANE   FOURTH   READER. 

12.  Like  flower-seeds,  by  the  wild  wind  spread, 

So  radiant  thoughts  are  strewed ; 
The  soul  whence  those  high  gifts  are  shed. 
May  faint  in  solitude. 

13.  And  who  will  think,  when  the  strain  is  sung, 

Till  a  thousand  hearts  are  stirred. 
What  life-drops  from  the  minstrel  wrung, 
Have  gushed  with  every  word? 

14.  None,  none !  —  his  treasures  live  like  thine. 

He  strives  and  dies  like  thee ; 
Thou  that  hast  been  to  the  pearPs  dark  shrine, 
0  wrestler  with  the  sea ! 

Felicia  D.  Hemans. 


LESSON   L. 


diist^ing  re  marks'  pu'pil 

peep'ing  piimp'kin§  •    Pirgrim 

mak'ing  "    tfdy  Plum'field 

THANKSGIVING   DINNER   AT   PLUMFIELD. 

1.  Thanksgiving  was  always  kept  at  Plumfield  Home 
School  in  the  good  old-fashioned  way,  and  nothing  was  al- 
lowed to  interfere  with  it.  For  days  beforehand  the  little 
girls  helped  Asia  and  Mrs.  Jo  in  storeroom  and  kitchen, 
making  pies  and  puddings,  sorting  fruit,  dusting  dishes, 
and  being  very  busy  and  immensely  important.    The  boys 


THE    CRANE    FOURTH    READER. 


165 


hovered  on  the  outskirts  of  the  forbidden  ground,  sniffing 
the  savory  odors,  peeping  in  at  the  mysterious  perform- 
ances, and  occasionally  being  permitted  to  taste  some  deli- 
cacy in  the  process  of  preparation. 

2.  When  at  last  the  day  came,  the  boys  went  off  for  a  long 
walk,  that  they  might  have  good  appetites  for  dinner ;  as 
if  they  ever  needed  them !  The  girls  remained  at  home  to 
help  set  the  table,  and  give  last  touches  to  various  affairs 
which  filled  their  busy  little  souls  with  anxiety. 

3.  The  boys  came  trooping  home  with  appetites  that 
would  have  made  the  big  turkey  tremble  if  it  had  not  been 
past  all  fear.  They  retired  to  dress ;  and  for  half  an  hour 
there  was  a  washing,  brushing,  and  prinking  that  would 
have  done  any  tidy  woman's  heart  good  to  see.  When  the 
bell  rang,  a  troop  of  fresh-faced  lads  with  shiny  hair,  clean 
collars,  and  Sunday  jackets  on,  filed  into  the  dining-room, 
where  Mrs.  Jo  sat  at  the  head  of  the  table,  '^  looking  splen- 
did," as  the  boys  said. 

4.  Nearly  every  one  had  contributed  to  the  feast,  so  the 
dinner  was  a  peculiarly  interesting  one  to  the  eaters  of  it, 
who  beguiled  the  pauses  by  remarks  on  their  own  produc- 
tions. 

5.  "If  these  are  not  good  potatoes  I  never  saw  any," 
observed  Jack,  as  he  received  his  fourth  big  mealy  one. 

6.  "  Some  of  my  herbs  are  in  the  stuffing  of  the  turkey; 
that 's  why  it 's  so  nice,"  said  Nan,  taking  a  mouthful  with 
intense  satisfaction. 

7.  ''My  ducks  are  prime  any  way;  Asia  said  she  never 
cooked  such  fat  ones,"  added  Tommy. 

8.  ''Well,  our  carrots  are  beautiful,  and  our  parsnips 
will  be  ever  so  good  when  we  dig  them,"  put  in  Dick,  and 


166  THE    CKANE   FOURTH   EEADER. 

Johnny  murmured  his  assent  from  behind  the  bone  he  was 
picking. 

9.  ^'  I  helped  make  the  pies  with  my  pumpkins/'  called 
out  Robby,  with  a  laugh  which  he  stopped  by  retiring  into 
his  mug. 

10.  "  I  picked  some  of  the  apples  that  the  cider  is  made 
of/'  said  Demi. 

11.  ''  I  raked  the  cranberries  for  the  sauce/'  cried  Nat. 

12.  "I  got  the  nuts/'  added  Dan;  and  so  it  went  all 
round  the  table. 

13.  "Who  made  up  Thanksgiving?"  asked  Rob;  for 
being  lately  promoted  to  jacket  and  trousers,  he  felt  a  new 
and  manly  interest  in  the  institutions  of  his  country. 

14.  "  See  who  can  answer  that  question ;"  and  Mr.  Baer 
nodded  to  one  or  two  of  his  best  history  boys. 

15.  "I  know/'  said  Demi;   ''the  Pilgrims  made  it." 

16.  "  What  for  ? "  asked  Rob,  without  waiting  to  learn 
who  the  Pilgrims  were. 

17.  "  I  forget,"  and  Demi  subsided. 

18.  "  I  believe  it  was  because  they  were  not  starved  once, 
and  so,  when  they  had  a  good  harvest,  they  said,  '  We  will 
thank  God  for  it,'  and  they  had  a  day  and  called  it  Thanks- 
giving," said  Dan,  who  liked  the  story  of  the  brave  men 
who  suffered  so  nobly  for  their  faith. 

19.  ''  Good !  I  didn't  think  you  would  remember  any 
thing  but  natural  history ; "  and  Mr.  Baer  tapped  gently 
on  the  table  as  applause  for  his  pupil. 

20.  Dan  looked  pleased;  and  Mrs.  Jo  said  to  her  son, 
"  Now,  do  you  understand  about  it,  Robby! " 

21.  "  No,  I  don't.    I  thought  pil-grims  were  a  sort  of  big 


THE   CKANE   FOUKTH   EEADEB. 


167 


bird  that  lived  on  rocks,  and  I  saw  pictures  of  them  in 
Demi's  book." 

22.  "  He  means  penguins.  Oh,  isn't  he  a  little  goosey ! " 
and  Demi  lay  back  in  his  chair  and  laughed  aloud. 

23.  "  Don't  laugh  at  him,  but  tell  him  all  about  it  if  you 
can,"  said  Mrs.  Baer,  consoling  Rob  with  more  cranberry 
sauce  for  the  general  smile  that  went  round  the  table  at  his 
mistake. 

24.  ''  Well,  I  will ; "  and,  after  a  pause  to  collect  his  ideas, 
Demi  delivered  the  following  sketch  of  the  Pilgrim  Fa- 
thers, which  would  have  made  even  those  grave  gentlemen 
smile  if  they  could  have  heard  it. 

25.  "  You  see,  Rob,  some  of  the  people  in  England  didn't 
like  the  king,  or  something,  so  they  got  into  ships  and 
sailed  away  to  this  country.  It  was  full  of  Indians,  and 
bears,  and  wild  creatures,  and  they  lived  in  forts,  and  had 
a  dreadful  time." 

26.  "The  bears?"  asked  Robby  with  interest. 

27.  "No;  the  Pilgrims,  because  the  Indians  troubled 
them.  They  hadn't  enough  to  eat,  and  they  went  to  church 
with  guns,  and  ever  so  many  died,  and  they  got  out  of  the 
ships  on  a  rock,  and  it's  called  Plymouth  Rock,  and  Aunt 
Jo  saw  it  and  touched  it.  The  Pilgrims  killed  all  the 
Indians  and  got  rich,  and  hung  the  witches,  and  were  very 
good;  and  some  of  my  greatest-great  grandpas  came  in 
the  ships.  One  was  the  Mayflower ;  and  they  made  Thanks- 
giving, and  we  have  it  always,  and  I  like  it. —  Some  more 
turkey,  please." 

28.  "I  think  Demi  will  be  a  historian,  there  is  such 
order  and  clearness  in  his  account  of  events ; "  and  Uncle 


168  THE    CRANE   FOURTH   READER. 

Fritz's  eyes  laughed  at  Aunt  Jo  as  he  helped  the  descend- 
ant of  the  Pilgrims  to  his  third  bit  of  turkey. 

29.  ^'I  thought  you  must  eat  as  much  as  ever  you 
could  on  Thanksgiving.  But  Franz  says  you  mustn't  even 
then ; "  and  Stuffy  looked  as  if  he  had  received  bad  news. 

30.  ^'  Franz  is  right ;  so  mind  your  knife  and  fork  and 
be  moderate,  or  else  you  won't  be  able  to  help  in  the  games 
by-and-by,"  said  Mrs.  Jo. 

31.  "I'll  be  careful;  but  everybody  does  eat  lots,  and 
I  like  it  better  than  being  moderate,"  said  Stuffy,  who 
leaned  to  the  popular  belief  that  Thanksgiving  must  be 
kept  by  coming  as  near  apoplexy  as  possible,  and  escaping 
with  merely  a  fit  of  indigestion  or  a  headache. 

32.  "Now,  my  ^pilgrims,'  amuse  yourselves  quietly  till 
tea-time,  for  you  will  have  enough  excitement  this  even- 
ing," said  Mrs.  Jo,  as  they  arose  from  the  table  after  a 
protracted  sitting. 

33.  "I  think  I  will  take  the  whole  flock  for  a  drive,  it 
is  so  pleasant ;  then  you  can  rest,  my  dear,  or  you  will  be 
worn  out  this  evening,"  added  Mr.  Baer;  and  as  soon  as 
coats  and  hats  could  be  put  on,  the  great  omnibus  was 
packed  full,  and  away  they  went  for  a  long,  gay  drive, 
leaving  Mrs.  Jo  to  rest  and  finish  sundry  small  affairs  in 

peace.  Louisa  M.  Alcott. 

Why  do  we  have  Thanksgiving  Day? 

Who  observed  the  first  Thanksgiving  in  America? 


THE    CKANE    FOUETH    READER. 


169 


LESSON    LI. 


mid^sum  mer 
quiv^er  mg 


rootlet 
burst^mg 


lad  en 
sweep^mg 


THE    TREE. 

1.  The  tree's  early  leaf -buds  were  bursting  their  brown: 
"  Shall  I  take  them  away ! "  said  the  Frost,  sweeping 

down. 

"  No,  let  them  alone 
Till  the  blossoms  have  grown/' 
Prayed  the  Tree,  while  it  trembled  from  rootlet  to  crown. 

2.  The  Tree  bore  its  blossoms  and  all  the  birds  sung : 

"  Shall  I  take  them  away  f ''  said  the  Wind,  as  it  swung. 

"  No,  let  them  alone 

Till  the  berries  have  grown," 
Said  the  Tree,  while  its  leaflets,  quivering,  hung. 

3.  The  Tree  bore  its  fruit  in  the  midsummer  glow : 
Said  the  girl,  ''May  I  gather  thy  sweet  berries  now?" 

''  Yes,  all  thou  canst  see : 
Take  them ;  all  are  for  thee," 
Said  the  Tree,  while  it  bent  down  its  laden  boughs  low. 

Bjobnstjebne  Bjobnson. 


170  THE    CKANE   FOURTH   READER. 


LESSo:^r  Lii. 


ter'ri  ble  sig^nal  start^led 

mam'mast  fariant  a  vert' 

sin  gk-hand'ed  fatii'6m§  heights 

THE   LIFE-BOAT. 

1.  Quick!    Man  the  life-boat!    See  yon  bark, 

That  drives  before  the  blast! 
There's  a  rock  ahead,  the  night  is  dark, 

And  the  storm  comes  thick  and  fast. 
Can  human  power  in  such  an  hour 

Avert  the  doom  that's  o'er  her? 
Her  mainmast's  gone,  but  she  still  drives  on 

To  the  fatal  reef  before  her. 

The  life-boat!    Man  the  life-boat! 

2.  Quick!     Man  the  life-boat!     Hark!   the  gun 

Booms  through  the  wintry  air; 
And  see !  the  signal  flags  are  on. 

And  speak  the  ship's  despair.     . 
That  forked  flash,  that  pealing  crash. 

Seemed  from  the  wave  to  sweep  her; 
She's  on  the  rock,  with  a  terrible  shock. 

And  the  wail  comes  louder  and  deeper. 
The  life-boat!    Man  the  life-boat! 

3.  Quick !    Man  the  life-boat !    See  —  the  crew 

Gaze  on  their  watery  grave; 
Already  some,  a  gallant  few. 
Are  battling  with  the  wave; 


THE   CKANE   FOURTH   READEE. 


171 


And  one  there  stands,  and  wrings  his  hands, 
As  thoughts  of  home  come  o'er  him; 

For  his  wife  and  child,  through  the  tempest  wild. 
He  sees  on  the  heights  before  him. 
The  life-boat!    Man  the  life-boat! 

4.   Speed,  speed  the  life-boat!    Off  she  goes. 
And,  as  they  pulled  the  oar. 
From  shore  and  ship  a  cheer  arose 

That  startled  ship  and  shore. 
Life-saving  ark!  yon  fated  bark 
Has  human  lives  within  her; 
And  dearer  than  gold  is  the  wealth  untold 
Thou'lt  save  if  thou  canst  win  her. 

On,  life-boat!     Speed  thee,  life-boat! 


5.   Hurrah!    The  life-boat  dashes  on. 

Though  darkly  the  reef  may  frown; 
The  rock  is  there  —  the  ship  is  gone 

Full  twenty  fathoms  down. 
But,  cheered  by  hope,  the  seamen  cope 

With  the  billows  single-handed: 
They  are  all  in  the  boat!— hurrah!  they're  afloat!— 
And  now  they  are  safely  landed 

By  the  life-boat!    Cheer  the  life-boat! 

What  is  a  life-boat? 

What  does  the  United  States  Government  do  toward  saving  lives  of 
people  on  the  coasts? 

What  is  a  life-saving  station? 


172  THE   CKANE   FOURTH   READEK. 

LESSO:^   LIII. 
Slse^ where        for  get^ful  nes5        narked  nes5        trairing   , 

THE   SOUL. 

Our  birth  is  but  a  sleep  and  a  forgetting : 

The  soul  that  rises  with  us,  our  life's  star, 

Hath  had  elsewhere  its  setting, 

And  cometh  from  afar : 

Not  in  entire  forgetfulness, 

And  not  in  utter  nakedness. 

But  trailing  clouds  of  glory  do  we  come 

From  God,  who  is  our  home. 

William  Wordsworth. 


LESSON  LIY. 

eon  sid^er  useless  S?  aeV  re  plie§^ 

THEY    ALSO    SERVE. 

John  Milton  (1608-1674)  was  an  English  poet.  In  his  early  manhood 
he  wrote  verses  in  Latin,  and  English  sonnets.  In  middle  life  he  wrote 
prose  on  political  subjects.  In  his  old  age  Milton  became  blind.  It  was  after 
this  that  he  wrote  his  masterpiece,  Paradise  Lost.  He  also  wrote  many  beau- 
tiful sonnets.  The  one  here  given  is  one  of  the  most  exquisite  productions 
in  the  English  language. 

When  I  consider  how  my  light  is  spent, 

Ere  half  my  days,  in  this  dark  world  and  wide, 
And  that  one  talent  which  is  death  to  hide. 
Lodged  with  me  useless,  though  my  soul  more  bent 

To  serve  therewith  my  Maker,  and  present 
My  true  account,  lest  he  returning  chide ; 


THE    CRANE   FOURTH   READER. 


173 


''Doth  God  exact  day-labor,  light  denied? ^^ 
I  fondly  ask;  but  Patience,  to  prevent 

That  murmur,  soon  replies :  "  God  doth  not  need 
Either  man's  work,  or  his  own  gifts ;  who  best 
Bear  his  mild  yoke,  they  serve  him  best:  his  state 

Is  kingly;  thousands  at  his  bidding  speed. 
And  post  o'er  land  and  ocean  without  rest; 
They  also  serve  who  only  stand  and  wait." 

John  Milton. 

To  what  does  the  poet  refer  in  the  first  line? 
Is  blindness  an  obstacle  to  great  attainments? 


Strag^urg 
elat^ter  ing 
eye^-shaped 
en  veFoped 


LESSON  LV. 

eon  sid^ered 
greed^i  ly- 
eon  venlent  (yent) 
eon^ti  nent 


eas^ta  net 
jour'ney§ 
m^stmet 
de  vour^ 


THE  STORKS   OF   STRASBURG. 

1.  If  you  should  take  a  walk  or  drive  through  Stras- 
burg,  and  should  chance  to  look  up  to  the  queer  roofs  of 
the  houses,  with  their  four  or  ^yq  rows  of  odd,  eye-shaped 
windows  standing  out  from  them,  you  would  notice  that 
many  of  the  chimneys  are  covered  on  the  top  with  a  sort 
of  bedding  of  straw.  And  perhaps  upon  this  you  would 
see  a  great  bird,  with  a  long  bill  and  a  short  tail,  mounted 
on  two  long,  thin  legs. 

2.  He  would  be  standing  so  very  still  that  you  would 
think  it  must  be  one  of  the  queer  ornaments  that  the  peo- 
ple of  Europe  put  upon  their  houses.    But  if  you  looked 


1T4  THE    CKANE   FOUKTH   EEADEK. 

long  enough  you  would  see  him  stretch  out  a  pair  of  large 
wings,  throw  back  his  head  upon  his  body,  and  rise  slowly 
into  the  air. 

3.  He  would  not  fly  very  far,  however,  but  lighting  in 
the  street  where  there  had  been  a  market,  would  take  a 
fish  that  had  been  thrown  away,  and  fly  back  with  it  to  his 
nest.  This  is  the  famous  stork,  a  bird  which  is  not  found  in 
America  nor  in  England,  but  is  common  on  the  continent, 
especially  in  the  large  cities,  being  fond  of  the  company 
of  man. 

4.  The  stork  is  a  bird  of  most  excellent  character.  He 
is  a  pattern  of  goodness  to  his  parents  and  to  his  children. 
He  never  forgets  a  kindness,  and  is  so  useful  that  the  peo- 
ple in  Holland  make  false  chimneys  to  their  houses,  so 
that  the  storks  may  find  places  enough  for  their  nests; 
and  in  German  cities  they  put  a  kind  of  frame  upon  their 
chimneys,  so  that  the  storks  may  find  them  more  con- 
venient. 

5.  Once  in  Strasburg  a  chimney  took  fire.  Upon  it  was 
a  nest,  in  which  were  four  young  storks  not  yet  able  to 
fly.  Think  of  the  despair  of  the  poor  mother  as  the  smoke 
enveloped  her  little  ones,  and  the  heat  threatened  to  roast 
them  alive !  They  were  too  young  for  her  to  carry  away 
alive  in  her  bill ;  that  would  strangle  them ;  and  to  thro 
them  out  of  the  nest  would  only  break  their  little  necks 

6.  The  mother  instinct  taught  her  what  to  do.  She  fle 
back  and  forth,  flapping  her  great  wings  over  the  nest, 
and  so  making  a  current  of  air  in  which  the  young  could 
breathe.  But,  alas !  a  great  quantity  of  soot,  all  on  fire, 
began  to  fall,  and  now  they  must  certainly  be  burned  alive, 


w9 

:s.l 
wl 

5t,l 


THE   CKANE   FOURTH   READER.  176 

No ;  the  good  mother  stretched  her  great  wings  over  the 
nest,  and  allowed  the  burning  soot  to  fall  upon  herself. 

7.  It  had  burned  one  wing  nearly  away,  when  the  peo- 
ple below  came  with  ladders,  and  saved  the  nest  and  the 
four  little  birds  and  the  good  mother.  They  took  care  of 
her,  but  she  was  always  weak ;  she  could  fly  no  more,  and 
for  many  years  she  used  to  go  around  from  house  to 
house,  and  the  people  fed  her. 

8.  The  storks  always  spend  the  winter  in  Africa,  and 
always  make  their  journeys  in  the  night.  When  the  time 
comes  for  them  to  go,  they  all  come  together  and  choose 
a  leader.  Such  a  noise  as  they  make!  No  doubt  they 
have  a  great  deal  of  trouble  in  getting  everything  settled ; 
they  make  all  their  talk  with  their  jaws,  which  sound  like 
castanets. 

9.  They  always  go  at  the  same  time  every  year,  and  re- 
turn to  their  chimney  nests  when  the  winter  is  over.  One 
stork,  who  had  made  his  nest  in  the  same  chimney  for 
many  years,  used  to  come  and  walk  up  and  down  before 
the  door  of  the  house  where  his  nest  was,  the  morning 
after  his  return,  clattering  his  bill,  as  much  as  to  say, 
"  Good  morning,  sir ;  you  see  I  am  here  again."  And  in 
the  autumn,  just  before  he  went  away,  he  would  come  and 
do  the  same  thing  again,  to  bid  good-by,  and  the  master 
would  come  out  and  say,  "Good-by;  a  pleasant  journey 
to  you.'' 

10.  One  reason  that  storks  are  so  welcome  in  large  cities 
is  that  they  eat  up  all  the  refuse.  All  the  fish  and  bones 
and  other  waste  matter  from  the  meat  and  fish  markets, 
they  greedily  devour.  They  are  fond  of  fish  and  frogs 
and  serpents.     In  times  past,  they  were  considered  so 


176  THE    CKANE   FOXJKTH   KEADEK. 

valuable  in  some  places  that  it  was  a  capital  offense  to  kill 
one ;  and  no  German  or  Dutch  or  Danish  child  would  ever 
think  of  harming  a  stork. 

Write  a  composition  on  storks,  answering  the  following  questions: 

Where  do  they  stay  in  summer? 

Where  in  the  winter? 

What  do  they  live  on? 

Of  what  use  are  storks  to  the  people  ? 


LESSON  LYI. 

dis  ap  peared'  mu  §e^iim  kmVtmg 

fo'li  age  grav'el  ly-  vil'lage 

temp  tactions  weighed  laugh^ter 

€ol  lec^tion§  pulseless  hon^ey-  siick  le 

THE   MOON'S  STORY. 

1.  "Last  night/'  said  the  Moon,  "when  the  Sun  had 
gone  down,  I  was  high  in  the  heavens  over  a  small  village. 
But  little  more  than  half  of  my  face  could  be  seen  by  the 
people,  but  I  did  the  best  I  could  to  light  up  the  scene  — 
and  I  did  it  well,  too,  for  not  a  cloud  was  in  the  sky. 

2.  "  First,  I  looked  down  upon  a  quiet  home  in  the  vil- 
lage. The  plain  house  was  a  little  back  from  the  street. 
Just  within  the  gate  the  flowers  were  in  their  richest 
blossom,  and  a  nice  walk  bordered  with  them  led  up  to 
the  door.  Over  the  porch  the  foliage  of  the  yellow  honey- 
suckle had  grown  so  thick  as  fairly  to  shut  out  my  light 
and  throw  a  dark  shadow  across  the  door  below. 

3.  "But  I  looked  in  through  the  parted  white  curtains 


THE   CRANE   FOURTH   READER. 


177 


at  the  window;  and  there,  in  the  corner,  sat  a  pale  man, 
who  had  come  in  weary  from  his  day's  work,  and  now, 
after  their  evening  meal  was  over,  was  resting  in  his  chair. 
By  the  round  tahle  before  the  fire  sat  a  woman  with  dark 
hair  and  eyes,  and  a  cheerful  face. 

—12 


178 


THE    CEANE   FOURTH   READER. 


4.  "  She  was  knitting,  yet  her  eyes  were  not  on  her  work, 
but  on  a  large  book  that  was  open  before  her.  From  this 
book  she  was  reading  aloud,  as  she  did  every  evening. 
Once  she  stopped  in  her  reading,  and  a  tear  shone  in  her 
eye.  She  spoke  of  ^  our  absent  boy,'  and  hoped  the  good 
angels  would  watch  over  him  and  keep  him  from  the  dan- 
gers and  temptations  of  city  life. 

5.  "Up  the  street,  toward  the  lake,  I  looked  upon  a 
little  school-house,  and  all  was  quiet  there.  I  looked 
through  the  windows,  and  on  the  wall  I  saw  maps  and 
pictures.  At  one  end  of  the  room  were  boxes  full  of  all 
sorts  of  things  that  made  me  think  of  the  collections  seen 
in  a  museum. 

6.  "  Then  I  looked  down  upon  a  little  grove  on  the  bor- 
der of  a  smooth  lake  just  back  of  a  large  stone  house. 
And  there,  under  the  trees,  where  the  shadows  played  with 
me,  a  group  of  happy  children  were  busy  at  their  play; 
and  I  could  hear  their  merry  laughter  ring  out  on  the 
sweet  evening  air. 

7.  "  A  little  afterward- 1  heard  some  one  say,  ^  It  is  time 
for  young  people  to  be  at  home,'  and  part  of  the  children 
crossed  the  street,  and  the  others  went  into  the  house.  So, 
in  a  little  while,  I  had  the  grove  and  the  trees  and  the  shad- 
ows all  to  myself. 

8.  "  Then  the  shadows,  which  never  come  out  in  the 
evening  unless  I  am  shining,  took  up  the  children's  play. 
They  kept  on  far  into  the  night,  playing  hide-and-seek 
with  me;  and  always,  when  I  was  on  one  side  of  a  tree, 
the  shadows  were  trying  to  hide  on  the  other. 

9.  "  But  I  found  time  to  see  and  hear  many  things  be- 
sides.   I  looked  in  at  a  chamber  window,  and  saw  a  little 


THE   CRANE   FOURTH   READER. 


179 


girl,  wHte-robed  for  the  night,  kneeling  by  her  mother's 
side.  Her  eyes  were  raised  and  her  little  hands  were 
folded  as  she  lisped  her  evening  prayer. 

10.  "  And  I  heard  the  mother  say,  ^  The  good  angels  will 
watch  over  my  darling  in  her  sleep.'  And  I  could  not  help 
saying,  ^God  bless  the  mother  and  bless  the  child.' 
Through  many  a  tiny  hole  I  looked  into  the  homes  of  the 
poor,  sending  in  my  light  to  see  that  all  was  well.  And 
the  toil-worn,  the  old  and  the  sad  greeted  me  kindly  and 
slept  the  more  securely,  knowing  that  I  kept  watch  out- 
side. 

11.  "Off  in  the  forest  I  heard  the  owls  call,  ^To-whit! 
to-whoo ! '  which  means,  ^  I  am  looking  —  looking  for  you!' 
And  the  little  birds  nestled  closer  in  their  hiding-places, 
for  fear  of  the  big  eyes  and  the  sharp  bill  of  the  bird  of 
night ;  but  I  covered  them  with  thick  shadows,  so  he  could 
not  find  them. 

12.  "  Then  I  saw  a  boat  moving  out  on  the  lake,  just  by 
the  house  where  the  children  had  been  at  play.  There 
were  three  in  a  boat,  and  they  were  going  to  fish  for 
trout  in  the  deep  waters  of  the  lake.  I  saw  one  of  the  men 
holding  his  torch  over  the  side  of  the  boat,  and  a  fish  down 
on  the  gravelly  bottom.  Then  another  of  the  men,  taking 
a  long  spear  in  his  hand,  plunged  it  swiftly  down,  and 
brought  up  a  large  trout  that  weighed  more  than  a  dozen 
pounds. 

13.  "But  all  the  time  I  had  been  moving  to  the  west, 
and  following  the  Sun,  my  ruler  and  guide,  whose  light 
I  borrow.  He  allows  me  to  be  Queen  of  the  Night,  as  it 
is  enough  for  him  to  be  King  of  the  Day. 


180 


THE   CRANE   FOURTH   READER. 


14.  "  Just  as  I  disappeared  from  view,  the  shadows  of 
night  fell  far  and  wide  over  the  land  and  the  lake.  And 
I  said  — 

u  i  jrjT  jg  ini(jnig]^t's  holy  hour  —  and  silence  now 
Is  brooding,  like  a  gentle  spirit,  o'er 
The  still  and  pulseless  world.' '' 

Tell  five  things  the  moon  saw  in  the  country. 
Make  a  list  of  the  words  ending  in  ly. 


fath^om  les5 

€on  Qealed^ 

de  €reed' 

im  pa'tient  (shent) 


LESSOE^  LYII. 

O'ri  ent 
strength 
€owrs^er 
won^droiis 


hardness 
miis^ck 
tem^pest 
mon^sterg 


SONG  OF  THE  STEAM. 

Harness  me  down  with  your  iron  bands, 

Be  sure  of  your  curb  and  rein, 
For  I  scorn  the  power  of  your  puny  hands 

As  the  tempest  scorns  a  chain. 
How  I  laughed,  as  I  lay  concealed  from  sight 

■For  many  a  countless  hour. 
At  the  childish  boast  of  human  might, 

And  the  pride  of  human  power. 


2.   When  I  saw  an  army  upon  the  land, 
A  navy  upon  the  seas, 
Creeping  along,  a  snail-like  band. 
Or  waiting  a  wayward  breeze; 


THE    CEANE   FOUKTH   READEK. 

When  I  saw  the  peasant  faintly  reel, 
With  the  toil  which  he  faintly  bore, 

As  constant  he  turned  at  the  tardy  wheel. 
Or  tugged  at  the  weary  oar; 

3.   When  I  measured  the  panting  courser's  speed, 

The  flight  of  the  carrier  dove, 
As  they  bore  a  law  a  king  decreed. 

Or  the  lines  of  impatient  love;— 
I  could  not  but  think  how  the  world  would  feel, 

As  these  were  outstripped  afar, 
When  I  should  be  bound  to  the  rushing  keel. 

Or  chained  to  the  flying  car. 


181 


Ha  ha !  ha  ha !  they  found  me  at  last. 

They  invited  me  forth  at  length; 
And  I  rushed  to  my  throne  with  a  thunder-blast. 

And  laughed  in  my  iron  strength. 
Oh,  then  you  saw  a  wondrous  change 

On  earth  and  ocean  wide. 
Where  now  my  fiery  armies  range. 

Nor  wait  for  wind  or  tide. 


Hurrah !  hurrah !  the  waters  o'er, 

The  mountain's  steep  decline. 
Time,  space,  have  yielded  to  my  power,— 

The  world,  the  world  is  mine! 
The  rivers  the  sun  has  earliest  blest. 

And  those  where  his  beams  decline. 
The  giant  streams  of  the  queenly  West, 

And  the  Orient  floods  divine. 


182  THE    CKANE   FOUKTH   KEADER. 

6.  The  ocean  pales  where'er  I  sweep, 

To  hear  my  strength  rejoice, 
And  the  monsters  of  the  briny  deep 

Cower,  trembling  at  my  voice. 
I  carry  the  wealth  and  the  lord  of  earth, 

The  thoughts  of  his  godlike  mind; 
The  wind  lags  after  my  flying  forth. 

The  lightning  is  left  behind. 

7.  In  the  darksome  depths  of  the  fathomless  mine 

My  tireless  arm  doth  play; 
Where  the  rocks  ne'er  saw  the  sun's  decline, 

Or  the  dawn  of  the  glorious  day. 
I  bring  earth's  glittering  jewels  up 

From  the  hidden  cave  below; 
And  I  make  the  fountain's  granite  cup 

With  a  crystal  gush  o'erflow. 

8.  I  blow  the  bellows,  I  forge  the  steel. 

In  all  the  shops  of  trade; 
I  hammer  the  ore,  and  turn  the  wheel 

Where  my  arms  of  strength  are  made; 
I  manage  the  furnace,  the  mill,  the  mint; 

I  carry,  I  spin,  I  weave; 
And  all  my  doings  I  put  into  print 

On  every  Saturday  eve. 

9.  I  've  no  muscle  to  weary,  no  frame  to  decay. 

No  bones  to  be  laid  on  the  shelf; 
And  soon  I  intend  you  shall  go  and  play, 
While  I  manage  the  world  myself. 


THE   CEANE   FOUETH   EEADEE. 


183 


But  harness  me  down  with  your  iron  bands, 
Be  sure  of  your  curb  and  rein, 

For  I  scorn  the  strength  of  your  puny  hands 
As  the  tempest  scorns  a  chain. 


How  is  steam  made? 

Tell  five  things  steam  can  do. 

What  else  can  do  these  things  besides  steam? 


G.  W.  Cutter. 


de  liv^er  ange 
im  pos^si  ble 
im  me^di  ate 
en  deav'oYed  (erd) 


LESSOI^  LVIIL 

ex  pect'ed 
fu^rx  oils 
stran^gled 
a  bathed 


pre§'enQ6? 
pre  serve' 
eoiir'age 
eon  fu'gion 


ft 


THE  SHIPWRECK   OF   ROBINSON   CRUSOE. 

Daniel  Defoe  ( 1661-1731 )  was  born  in  Lon- 
don and  educated  at  a  school  at  Newtington 
Green.  His  best-known  work  is  Robinson  Crusoe. 
It  was  a  great  success  when  first  printed  in 
1719,  and  is  still  a  delight  to  children.  He 
wrote   many   political   works. 

1.  Nothing  can  describe  the  con- 
fusion of  thought  which  I  felt  when 
I  sank  into  the  water;  for  though  I 
swam  very  well,  yet  I  could  not  de-  daniel  defoe. 

liver  myself  from  the  waves  so  as  to 
draw  breath,  till  that  wave,  having  driven  me,  or  rather 
carried  me,  a  vast  way  on  toward  the  shore,  and  having 
spent  itself,  went  back,  and  left  me  upon  the  land  almost 
dry,  but  half  dead  with  the  water  I  took  in. 


184  THE   CRANE   FOURTH   READER. 

2.  I  had  so  much  presence  of  mind  as  well  as  breath 
left,  that,  seeing  myself  nearer  the  mainland  than  I  ex- 
pected, I  got  upon  my  feet  and  endeavored  to  make  on 
toward  the  land  as  fast  as  I  could  before  another  wave 
should  return  and  take  me  up  again.  But  I  soon  found  it 
was  impossible  to  avoid  it;  for  I  saw  the  sea  come  after 
me  as  high  as  a  great  hill,  and  as  furious  as  an  enemy  with 
which  I  had  no  means  or  strength  to  contend. 

3.  My  business  was  to  hold  my  breath  and  raise  myself  ■ 
upon  the  water,  if  I  could ;  and  so,  by  swimming,  to  pre- 
serve my  breathing  and  pilot  myself  toward  the  shore,  if 
possible;  my  greatest  concern  now  being  that  the  wave, 
as  it  would  carry  me  a  great  way  toward  the  shore  when 
it  came  on.  might  not  carry  me  back  again  with  it  when 
it  gave  back  toward  the  sea. 

4.  The  wave  that  came  upon  me  again  buried  me  at 
once  twenty  or  thirty  feet  deep  in  its  own  body,  and  I 
could  feel  myself  carried  with  a  mighty  force  and  swift- 
ness toward  the  shore  a  very  great  wa}^;  but  I  held  my 
breath  and  assisted  myself  to  swim  still  forward  with  all 
my  might.  I  was  ready  to  burst  with  holding  my  breath, 
when,  as  I  felt  myself  rising  up,  so,  to  my  immediate  re- 
lief, I  found  my  head  and  hands  shoot  out  above  the  sur- 
face of  the  water ;  and  though  it  was  not  two  seconds  of 
time  that  I  could  keep  myself  so,  yet  it  relieved  me  greatly, 
and  gave  me  breath  and  new  courage. 

5.  I  was  covered  again  with  water  a  good  while,  but 
not  so  long  but  I  held  out;  and  finding  the  water  had 
spent  itself  and  began  to  return,  I  struck  forward  against 
the  return  of  the  wave,  and  felt  ground  again  with  my 


THE    CRANE   FOURTH   READER. 


185 


feet.  I  stood  still  a  few  moments  to  recover  my  breath,  and 
till  the  water  went  from  me,  and  then  took  to  my  heels 
and  ran,  with  what  strength  I  had,  farther  toward  the 
shore.  But  neither  would  this  deliver  me  from  the  fury 
of  the  sea,  which  came  pouring  in  after  me  again;  and 
twice  more  I  was  lifted  up  by  the  waves  and  carried  for- 
ward as  before,  the  shore  being  very  flat. 

6.  The  last  time  of  these  two  had  well-nigh  been  fatal  to 
me ;  for  the  sea,  having  hurried  me  along  as  before,  landed 
me,  or  rather  dashed  me,  against  a  piece  of  a  rock,  and 
that  with  such  force  that  it  left  me  senseless,  and  indeed 
helpless  as  to  my  own  deliverance;  for  the  blow,  taking 
my  side  and  breast,  beat  the  breath,  as  it  were,  quite  out 
of  my  body;  and,  had  it  returned  again  immediately,  I 
must  have  been  strangled  in  the  water ;  but  I  recovered  a 
little  before  the  return  of  the  wave,  and,  seeing  I  should 
again  be  covered  with  water,  I  resolved  to  hold  fast  by  a 
piece  of  rock,  and  so  to  hold  my  breath,  if  possible,  till 
the  wave  went  back. 

7.  Now,  as  the  waves  were  not  so  high  as  the  first, 
being  nearer  land,  I  held  my  hold  till  the  wave  abated,  and 
then  fetched  another  run,  which  brought  me  so  near  the 
shore  that  the  next  wave,  though  it  went  over  me,  yet  did 
not  so  swallow  me  up  as  to  carry  me  away ;  and  the  next 
run  I  took  I  got  to  the  mainland,  where,  to  my  great  com- 
fort, I  clambered  up  the  cliifs  of  the  shore  and  sat  me 
down  upon  the  grass,  free  from  danger,  and  quite  out  of 
the  reach  of  the  water. 

Daniel  Defoe. 
Write  a  story,  telling  all  you  can  about  Robinson  Crusoe. 


186 


THE    CKANE   FOUKTH   KEADEE. 


iin  a€  quaint^ed 
in  dif  ^f  er  enge 
hu  man^i  t^ 
so  Qi'e  ty 


LESSOl^  LIX. 

af  fiie^tion 
hor^ri  ble 
re€^on  glk§ 
dis  ptite^ 

ALEXANDER   SELKIRK, 


mon^are^ 
as  suage^  (swaj) 
tame^nes5 
€6r'dial  (jal) 


William  Cowper  (1731-1800)  was  an  English  poet.  His  mother  died 
when  he  was  very  young,  and  one  of  his  best-known  poems  was  written  of 
her.  It  is  called  To  My  Mother's  Picture.  He  wrote  many  beautiful  hymns. 
His  life  was  sad,  owing  to  a  gloomy  mind  and  nervous  temperament. 

1.   I  AM  monarch  of  all  I  survey, 

My  right  there  is  none  to  dispute; 
From  the  center  all  round  to  the  sea, 

I  am  lord  of  the  fowl  and  the  brute. 
O  Solitude!  where  are  the  charms 

That  sages  have  seen  in  thy  Tace! 
Better  dwell  in  the  midst  of  alarms. 

Than  reign  in  this  horrible  place! 


I  am  out  of  humanity's  reach, 

I  must  finish  my  journey  alone; 
Never  hear  the  sweet  music  of  speech - 

I  start  at  the  sound  of  my  own! 
The  beasts  tliat  roam  over  the  plain 

My  form  with  indifference  see; 
They  are  so  unacquainted  with  man. 

Their  tameness  is  shocking  to  me. 


THE    CRANE   FOURTH   READER. 

Society,  friendship,  and  love, 

Divinely  bestowed  upon  man. 
Oh,  had  I  the  wings  of  a  dove, 

How  soon  would  I  taste  you  again ! 
My  sorrows  I  then  might  assuage 

In  the  ways  of  religion  and  truth; 
Might  learn  from  the  wisdom  of  age. 

And  be  cheered  by  the  sallies  of  youth. 


187 


4.   Religion!   what  treasure  untold 

Resides  in  that  heavenly  word. 
More  precious  than  silver  and  gold, 

Or  all  that  this  earth  can  afford ! 
But  the  sound  of  the  church-going  bell 

These  valleys  and  rocks  never  heard - 
Never  sighed  at  the  sound  of  a  knell. 

Or  smiled  when  a  Sabbath  appeared ! 


5.  Ye  winds,  that  have  made  me  your  sport, 

Convey  to  this  desolate  shore 
Some  cordial,  endearing  report 

Of  a  land  I  shall  visit  no  more. 
My  friends— do  they  now  and  then  send 

A  wish  or  a  thought  after  me? 
Oh,  tell  me  I  yet  have  a  friend. 

Though  a  friend  I  am  never  to  see! 

6.  How  fleet  is  a  glance  of  the  mind ! 

Compared  with  the  speed  of  its  flight. 
The  tempest  itself  lags  behind. 
And  the  swift- winged  arrows  of  light! 


188  THE    CKANE   FOURTH   READER. 

When  I  think  of  my  own  native  land, 

In  a  moment  I  seem  to  be  there ; 
But  alas!  recollection  at  hand 

Soon  hurries  me  back  to  despair ! 

7.   But  the  sea-fowl  has  gone  to  her  nest, 

The  beast  is  laid  down  in  his  lair; 
Even  here  is  a  season  of  rest. 

And  I  to  my  cabin  repair. 
There's  mercy  in  every  place; 

And  mercy  —  encouraging  thought  — 
Gives  even  affliction  a  grace, 

And  reconciles  man  to  his  lot. 

William  Cowper. 

Have  you  read  "  Robinson  Crusoe  "  ?  The  story  is  said  to  be  founded  on 
the  adventures  which  Selkirk  met  with  in  the  island  of  Juan  Fernandez. 
Find  this  island  on  the  map  in  your  geography. 

What  journey  must  he  finish  alone? 


LESso:^^  lx. 

grad^ii  at  ed  Mas  sa  chu'set^s  Stock'hridge 

phi  los^o  phy  gen  er  action  gen^tu  ry 

ti  ni  ver'si  ty  €^ar^ac  ter  barqi^e 

sal  u  taction  r/^et^o  rie  sen  sa^tion 

MARK   HOPKINS. 

David  Dltjley  Field  (1805-1894)  was  a  noted  jurist.  He  was  a  native 
of  Connecticut,  and  a  graduate  of  Williams  College. 

1.  Makk  Hopkins  was  born  at  Stockbridge,  Massa- 
chusetts, February  4,  1802,  and  graduated  at  Williams 
College  in  1824. 


THE    CKANE   FOUKTH   KEADEK.  189 

He  was  a  teacher  of  moral  philosophy  and  rhetoric 
in  Williams  College  for  six  years,  and  president  of  that 
college  for  thirty-six  years.  The  nineteenth  century 
has  produced  no  greater  teacher  and  thinker  than  Mark 
Hopkins. 

2.  General  Garfield  said  he  would  rather  be  taught  in 
a  college  where  Mark  Hopkins  was  a  teacher,  though  the 
buildings  had  nothing  but  pine  slabs  to  cover  them,  than 
in  the  best  endowed  university  in  the  country  under  the 
ordinary  teacher. 

The  highest  art  of  the  teacher  is  to  make  the  pupil  not 
only  learn,  but  think  and  reason.  This  Mark  Hopkins 
did  in  the  highest  degree. 

3.  How  can  I  portray  this  character  and  this  life  I  The 
life  was  uneventful.  Our  friend  did  not  serve  in  the  coun- 
cils or  the  battles  of  his  country.  He  was  a  leader,  but  his 
leadership  was  silent ;  he  impressed  himself  upon  his  gen- 
eration, but  the  impression  was  gentle ;  he  was  a  thinker, 
but  his  thoughts  were  uttered  not  in  passionate  words, 
rushing  like  a  storm,  but  in  calm  language,  like  the  soft- 
falling  words  of  Ulysses,  which  fell  as  fall  the  winter 
snowflakes  through  the  still  air. 

4.  It  was  fitting  that  he  should  live  a  long  life  for  the 
finishing  of  his  work;  it  was  fitting  that  he  should  die 
in  June,  when  the  day  was  longest,  the  air  softest,  and 
the  flowers  of  forest  and  field  richest  and  sweetest.  He 
was  a  lover  of  nature,  and  if  he  could  have  chosen  a  time 
to  die,  I  think  it  would  have  been  when  he  could  lay  his 
head  upon  the  lap  of  his  Mother  Earth  in  the  gentlest  and 
brightest  hours  of  the  year. 

5.  The  manner  of  his  death  was  more  remarkable  even 


190  THE   CKANE   FOURTH   READER.. 

than  the  life  which  it  ended.  He  had  passed  the  day  be- 
fore pleasantly;  had  driven  out  at  twilight  to  take  the 
evening  air,  stopped  to  drink  at  a  familiar  spring  whose 
waters  were  especially  pure  and  sweet,  had  returned  to 
his  evening  meal  in  the  quiet  of  his  home,  with  only  his 
wife  beside  him,  and  retired  to  rest  as  he  was  wont  to  do. 

6.  The  next  day,  the  day  of  his  death,  he  remained  in- 
doors, being  a  little  restless.  During  the  night  he  became 
more  restless,  rose  from  his  bed,  and  took  two  or  three 
turns  in  the  room,  and  then  seating  himself  in  a  chair  by 
the  side  of  the  bed,  said  to  her  who  had  been  his  constant 
companion  for  more  than  fifty  years,  '^  This  is  a  new  sen- 
sation ;  I  think  it  must  be  death,''  and  without  lying  down 
or  saying  another  word,  fell  quietly  into  the  sleep  of  death. 

7.  May  I  in  closing  say  a  few  words  of  President  Hop- 
kins as  a  personal  friend! 

He  was  to  me  as  a  brother.  "We  started  on  the  voyage 
of  life  together,  from  the  same  shore,  each  in  his  own 
barque,  but  keeping  always  within  hailing  distance  of 
each  other. 

8.  I  knew,  as  he  knew,  that  if  evil  befell  either,  the 
other  would  hasten  to  the  rescue. 

We  have  had  our  good  and  our  evil  days,  but  the  good 
have  prevailed  over  the  evil. 

Now  from  my  barque,  still  lingering  on  the  sea,  I  wave 
my  parting  salutation  to  him  safely  landed  on  the  shore. 

"Green  be  the  turf  above  thee. 
Friend  of  my  better  days! 
None  knew  thee  but  to  love  thee, 
Nor  named  thee  but  to  praise." 

David  Dudley  Field. 


THE    CRANE    FOURTH    READER. 


191 


iin  f or^tu  nate 
a  trog^i  tie§ 
meran  ehol  f 
ex  tme^tion 


lesso:n^  lxi. 

with^ered 
sa  gag  1  ty 
so  bri^e  ty- 
venge^ange 


pes^ti  lenge 
€an^ker 
plag^^e 
sa^chem 


FATE  OF  THE   NORTH-AMERICAN    INDIANS. 

Joseph  Story  (1779-1845)  was  an  American 
jurist.  He  was  born  at  Marblehead,  Massachu- 
setts, and  was  educated  at  Harvard  College. 
Most  of  his  writings  are  upon  law  subjects. 
He  was  for  many  years  in  public  office,  and 
served  for  thirty-four  years  as  judge  of  the 
United  States  Supreme  Court. 

1.  There  is  indeed,  in  the  fate  of 
the    unfortunate    Indians,    much    to 
awaken  our  sympathy,  and  much  to  joseph  story. 
disturb  the  sobriety  of  our  judgment ; 

much  that  may  be  urged  to  excuse  their  own  atrocities; 
much  in  their  character  which  betrays  us  into  an  involun- 
tary admiration.  What  can  be  more  melancholy  than 
their  history?  By  a  law  of  their  nature,  they  seem  des- 
tined to  a  slow  but  sure  extinction. 

2.  Everywhere,  at  the  approach  of  the  white  man,  they 
fade  away.  "We  hear  the  rustling  of  their  footsteps,  like 
that  of  the  withered  leaves  of  autumn,  and  they  are  gone 
forever.  They  pass  mournfully  by  us,  and  they  return 
no  more.  Two  centuries  ago  the  smoke  of  their  wigwams 
and  the  fires  of  their  councils  rose  in  every  valley,  from 
Hudson's  Bay  to  the  farthest  Florida,  from  the  ocean  to 
the  Mississippi  and  the  lakes. 


192  THE    CRANE   FOURTH   READER. 

3.  The  shouts  of  victory  and  the  war-dance  rung  through 
the  mountains  and  the  glades.  The  thick  arrows  and  the 
deadly  tomahawk  whistled  through  the  forests;  and  the 
hunter's  trace  and  the  dark  encampment  startled  the  wild 
beasts  in  their  lairs.  The  warriors  stood  forth  in  their 
glory ;  the  young  listened  to  the  songs  of  other  days ;  the 
mothers  played  with  their  infants,  and  gazed  on  the  scene 
with  warm  hopes  of  the  future. 

4.  The  aged  sat  down ;  but  they  wept  not.  They  would 
soon  be  at  rest  in  fairer  regions,  where  the  Great  Spirit 
dwelt,  in  a  home  prepared  for  the  brave  beyond  the  west- 
ern skies.  Braver  men  never  lived;  truer  men  never 
drew  the  bow.  They  had  courage  and  fortitude  and  sa- 
gacity and  perseverance  beyond  most  of  the  human  race. 

5.  They  shrunk  from  no  dangers,  and  they  feared  no 
hardships.  If  they  had  the  vices  of  savage  life,  they  had 
the  virtues  ajso.  They  were  true  to  their  country,  their 
friends,  and  their  homes.  If  they  forgave  not  injury, 
neither  did  they  forget  kindness.  If  their  vengeance  was 
terrible,  their  fidelity  and  generosity  were  unconquerable 
also. 

6.  Their  love,  like  their  hate,  stopped  not  on  this  side 
of  the  grave.  But  where  are  theyf  Where  are  the 
villages  and  warriors  and  youth,  the  sachems  and  the 
tribes,  the  hunters  and  their  families?  They  have  per- 
ished; they  are  consumed.  The  wasting  pestilence  has 
not  alone  done  the  mighty  work.  No;  nor  famine,  nor 
war. 

7.  There  has  been  a  mightier  power— a  moral  canker 
which  hath  eaten  into  their  heart-cores;  a  plague  which 
the  touch  of  the  white  man  communicated ;  a  poison  which 


# 


THE    CRANE   FOURTH   READER.  193 

betrayed  them  into  a  lingering  ruin.  The  winds  of  the 
Atlantic  fan  not  a  single  region  which  they  may  now  call 
their  own. 

8.  Already  the  last  feeble  remnants  of  the  race  are 
preparing  for  their  journey  beyond  the  Mississippi.  I  see 
them  leave  their  miserable  homes— the  aged,  the  helpless, 
the  women,  and  the  warriors,  ^^  few  and  faint,  yet  fearless 
still."  The  ashes  are  cold  on  their  native  hearths.  The 
smoke  no  longer  curls  round  their  lowly  cabins.  They 
move  on  with  a  slow,  unsteady  step. 

9.  The  white  man  is  upon  their  heels,  for  terror  or 
dispatch;  but  they  heed  him  not.  They  turn  to  take  a 
last  look  of  their  deserted  villages.  They  cast  a  last  glance 
upon  the  graves  of  their  fathers.  They  shed  no  tears; 
they  utter  no  cries;  they  heave  no  groans.  There  is 
something  in  their  hearts  which  passes  speech. 

10.  There  is  something  in  their  looks,  not  of  vengeance 
or  submission,  but  of  hard  necessity,  which  stifles  both; 
which  chokes  all  utterance ;  which  has  no  aim  or  method. 
It  is  courage  absorbed  in  despair.  They  linger  but  for  a 
moment.  Their  look  is  onward.  They  have  passed  the 
fatal  stream.  It  shall  never  be  repassed  by  them;  no, 
never!  Yet  there  lies  not  between  us  and  them  an  im- 
passable gulf.  They  know  and  feel  that  there  is  for  them 
still  one  remove  farther,  not  distant  nor  unseen.    It  is  the 

general  burial-ground  of  the  race. 

Joseph  Story. 

To  what  do  the  Indians  seem  to  be  destined? 
What  was  their  condition  in  this  country  two  centuries  ago  ? 
With  the  vices  of  savagie  life,  what  virtues  had  they? 
Give  the  characteristics  of  the  Indian. 

Do  you  agree  with  the  author,  that  they  are  doomed  to  extinction? 
—13 


194 


THE   CKANE   FOURTH   READER. 


LESSO:Nr  LXII. 

drones 

^on^est 

sm^ews  (iiz) 

anVil 

zeal 

where  so  ev'er 

BOYS  WANTED. 

nobbier 

€ope 

whin^mg 


1.  Boys  of  spirit,  boys  of  will, 

Boys  of  muscle,  brain,  and  power, 
Fit  to  cope  with  anything— 
These  are  wanted  every  hour. 

2.  Not  the  weak  and  whining  drones. 

That  all  trouble  magnify— 
Not  the  watchword  of  "  I  can't," 
But  the  nobler  one,  "  I  '11  try." 

3.  Do  whatever  you  have  to  do 

With  a  true  and  earnest  zeal; 
Bend  your  sinews  to  the  task- 
Put  your  shoulder  to  the  wheel. 

4.  Though  your  duty  may  be  hard, 

Look  not  on  it  as  an  ill; 
If  it  be  an  honest  task. 
Do  it  with  an  honest  will. 

5.  At  the  anvil  or  the  farm. 

Wheresoever  you  may  be. 
From  your  future  efforts,  boys, 
Comes  a  nation's  destiny. 

What  is  duty? 

Who  are  drones? 

Is  it  harder  to  perform  the  little  duties  or  the  great  ones  ? 


THE    CRANE    FOURTH   READER. 


195 


partit 
irk^some 
it  er  action 
des^per  ate 


LESSON  LXIII. 

^nats 

ad  a  man^tme 
be  hests^ 
hay ^6  nets 

EVERY   DAY. 


mar^tyr  dom 
aw^re  ok 
eom  plaint^ 
seathe 


Elizabeth  Akers  Allen  (1832)  is  best  known  by  her  pen-name,  "Flor- 
ence Percy."  Among  her  poems  is  the  well-known  one  entitled  Rock  Me  to 
Sleep^  Mother. 

1.  Oh,  trifling  tasks  so  often  done, 

Yet  ever  to  be  done  anew ! 
Oh,  cares  wliich  come  with  every  sun. 

Morn  after  morn,  the  long  years  through; 
We  shrink  beneath  their  paltry  sway— 
The  irksome  calls  of  every  day. 

2.  The  restless  sense  of  wasted  power, 

The  tiresome  round  of  little  things. 
Are  hard  to  bear,  as  hour  by  hour 

Its  tedious  iteration  brings; 
Who  shall  evade  or  who  delay 
The  small  demands  of  every  day? 

3.  The  bowlder  in  the  torrent's  course. 

By  tide  and  tempest  lashed  in  vain. 
Obeys  the  wave-whirled  pebble's  force. 

And  yields  its  substance  grain  by  grain; 
So  crumble  strongest  lives  away 
Beneath  the  wear  of  every  day. 


196  THE    CRANE   FOURTH   READER. 

4.  Who  finds  the  lion  in  his  lair, 

"Who  tracks  the  tiger  for  his  life, 
May  wound  them  ere  they  are  aware, 

Or  conquer  them  in  desperate  strife; 
Yet  powerless  he  to  scathe  or  slay 
The  vexing  gnats  of  every  day. 

5.  The  steady  strain  that  never  stops 

Is  mightier  than  the  fiercest  shock; 
The  constant  fall  of  water-drops 

Will  groove  the  adamantine  rock; 
We  feel  our  noblest  powers  decay 
In  feeble  wars  with  every  day. 

6.  We  rise  to  meet  a  heavy  blow— 

Our  souls  a  sudden  bravery  fills— 
Yet  we  endure  not  always  so 

The  drop-by-drop  of  little  ills; 
We  still  deplore  and  still  obey 
The  hard  behests  of  every  day. 

7.  The  heart  which  boldly  faces  death 

Upon  the  battle-field,  and  dares 
Cannon  and  bayonets,  faints  beneath 

The  needle-points  of  frets  and  cares ; 
The  stoutest  spirits  they  dismay— 
The  tiny  stings  of  every  day. 

8.  And  even  saints  of  holy  fame, 

"Whose  souls  by  faith  have  overcome, 
Who  wore  amid  the  cruel  flame 
The  molten  crown  of  martyrdom, 


THE   CEANE   FOUKTH   KEADEE.  197 

Bore  not  without  complaint  alway 
The  petty  pains  of  every  day. 

Ah,  more  than  martyr's  aureole, 
And  more  than  hero's  heart  of  fire, 

We  need  the  humble  strength  of  soul 
Which  daily  toils  and  ills  require. 

Sweet  Patience !  grant  us,  if  you  may, 

An  added  grace  for  every  day! 

Elizabeth  Akers  Allen. 


LESSON  LXIV. 

derVish  in  f erred'         -  a€  €u§'er§ 

herb^age  im  pres'sion  a^  €Ost'ed 

jour'ne^  ing  ca'di  Turk'ish 

THE  DERVISH  AND  THE  CAMEL. 

1.  In  one  of  the  Eastern  fables  it  is  said  that  a  dervish 
or  Turkish  monk  was  journeying  alone  in  the  desert.  He 
often  stopped  and  fell  down  on  the  sands  to  say  his 
prayers ;  but  he  was  at  length  met  by  a  company  of  mer- 
chants, who  immediately  accosted  him.  "  Holy  man,"  said 
they,  "  we  have  lost  a  camel." 

2.  '^  Was  he  not  blind  in  his  right  eye,  and  lame  in  his 
left  leg! "  asked  the  dervish. 

"  He  was,"  said  the  merchants. 

3.  '^  Had  he  not  lost  a  front  tooth  ? "  inquired  the  dervish. 
"  He  had,"  said  the  merchants. 


198  THE    CKANE    FOURTH   READER. 

4.  "  Was  he  not  loaded  with  wheat  on  one  side! '' 
"  He  was,"  said  the  merchants. 

5.  ^^And  with  honey  on  the  other !  " 

''  He  was !  he  was !  he  was ! "  said  the  merchants,  sur- 
prised. 

6.  "Then,"  said  the  dervish,  "I  have  not  seen  your 
camel." 

7.  The  merchants  were  now  in  a  great  rage,  and  told 
the  dervish  that  he  must  know  well  about  the  camel,  and 
suspected  that  he  might  have  received  some  of  the  jewels 
and  money  which  formed  part  of  the  camel's  load.  They 
therefore  seized  him,  and  carried  him  to  the  nearest  town, 
and  brought  him  before  the  cadi  or  judge. 

8.  The  cadi  heard  the  story  of  the  merchants,  and  seemed 
to  think  the  dervish  knew  more  about  the  camel  and  the 
thieves  than  he  chose  to  tell.  Before  he  condemned  him, 
however,  he  commanded  him  to  answer  his  accusers. 

9.  "  How  did  you  know  the  camel  was  blind  of  one  eye  ? " 

10.  "I  inferred  that  the  animal  was  blind  of  one  eye, 
because  it  had  cropped  the  herbage  only  on  one  side  of  the 
path,"  replied  the  dervish. 

11.  "How  did  you  know  it  was  lame  of  the  left  leg"?" 
asked  the  cadi. 

12.  "  I  inferred  that  it  was  lame  of  the  left  leg,  because  I 
observed  the  impression  of  that  foot  was  fainter  than  those 
of  the  others." 

13.  "  How  did  you  know  the  animal  had  lost  a  tooth  ? " 
asked  the  cadi. 

14.  "  I  inferred  that  it  had  lost  a  tooth,"  replied  the  der- 
vish, "because  wherever  it  had  grazed  a  small  tuft  of 
herbage  was  left  uninjured  in  the  center  of  its  bite." 


THE    CEANE   FOURTH   READER. 


199 


15.  "But  how  could  you  tell  with  what  it  was  laden V 
interrupted  the  merchants ;  "  ay,  tell  us  that.'' 

16.  "  As  to  that  which  formed  the  burden  of  the  beast, 
the  busy  ants  on  one  side,  and  the  flies  on  the  other,  showed 
me  that  corn  and  honey  were  its  burden.  And  more  than 
this,  my  friends,''  he  continued,  "I  infer  that  the  animal 
has  only  strayed,  and  is  not  stolen,  as  there  were  no  marks 
of  any  footsteps  either  before  or  behind  it.  Return  and 
look  for  your  camel." 

17.  "  Go,"  said  the  cadi,  "  and  look  for  your  camel." 

18.  The  merchants  did  so,  and  found  the  beast  only  a 
few  miles  from  the  spot  whence  it  had  strayed. 

What  is  a  dervish? 

How  does  this  lesson  show  the  value  of  close  observation? 


Rest  is  not  quitting 

The  busy  career, 
Rest  is  but  fitting 

Of  self  for  one's  sphere. 

'Tis  the  brook's  rapid  mcftion 

Swift  in  its  flight, 
Till  it  reaches  the  ocean 

And  passes  from  sight. 

It  is  loving  and  serving, 
The  truest  and  best, 

It  is  onward  unswerving, 
And  this  is  true  rest. 


But  whether  on  the  scaffold  high, 
Or  in  the  battle's  van. 

The  fittest  place  for  man  to  die 
Is  where  he  dies  for  man. 


Babby. 


200 


THE    CKAN^E   FOUETH   HEADER. 


chant^ed 


LESSO:^  LXV. 

har^mo  ny 
trump'et 


wag'e§ 


BRET   IIARTE 


WHAT  THE   CHIMNEY  SANG. 

Francis  Bret  Harte  (1837-1902)  was  born 
in  Albany,  New  York,  but  spent  most  of  his  life 
in  the  far  West.  As  gold-digger,  school-teacher 
and  type-setter*  in  California,  he  was  well  ac- 
quainted with  the  traits  of  the  people  on  the 
Pacific  slope.  His  knowledge,  reproduced  in 
many  volumes  of  short  stories,  has  given  to  the 
literary  world  a  clear  picture  of  the  new  civi- 
lization that  sprang  up  in  our  far-western  States 
and  Territories. 

Mr.  Harte's  best-known  works  are:  The  Luck 
of  Roaring  Camp,  The  Outcasts  of  Poker  Flat, 
Gabriel  Conroy,  and  Thankful  Blossom. 

1.  Over  the  chimney  the  night-wind  sang, 

And  chanted  a  melody  no  one  knew ; 
And  the  Woman  stopped,  as  her  babe  she  tossed, 
And  thought  of  the  one  she  had  long  since  lost, 
And  said,  as  her  tear-drops  back  she  forced, 

"  I  hate  the  wind  in  the  chimney. '' 

2.  Over  the  chimney  the  night-wind  sang. 

And  chanted  a  melody  no  one  knew ; 
And  the  Children  said,  as  they  closer  drew, 
"'Tis  some  witch  that  is  cleaving  the  black  night 

through, 
'Tis  a  fairy  trumpet  that  just  then  blew. 

And  we  fear  the  wind  in  the  chimney." 

3.  Over  the  chimney  the  night-wind  sang. 

And  chanted  a  melody  no  one  knew ; 
And  the  Man,  as  he  sat  in  his  hearth  below. 


THE    CKANE   FOUETH   KEADER. 


201 


II 


Said  to  himself,  ''  It  will  surely  snow, 
And  fuel  is  dear  and  wages  low, 

And  I  '11  stop  the  leak  in  the  chimney." 

Over  the  chimney  the  night-wind  sang, 
And  chanted  a  melody  no  one  knew; 
But  the  Poet  listened  and  smiled,  for  he 
Was  Man,  and  Woman,  and  Child,  all  three, 
And  said,  "  It  is  God's  own  harmony, 
This  wind  we  hear  in  the  chimney." 


Bret  Harte. 


gladly 
hiim^mmg 
dis  turb'mg 


LESS0:N"  LXYI. 

€a  tas^tro  phe 

m^mates 

dis'tange 

A  BEE-HUNT. 


siis  pf  cious 
spec^ta  tors  (ter§) 
stiim^bling 


1.  We  had  not  been  long  in  the  camp  when  a  party  set 
out  in  quest  of  a  bee-tree;  and,  being  curious  to  witness 
the  sport,  I  gladly  accepted  an  invitation  to  accompany 
them.  The  party  was  headed  by  a  veteran  bee-hunter,  a 
tall,  lank  fellow  in  homespun  garb  that  hung  loosely  about 
his  limbs,  and  a  straw  hat  shaped  not  unlike  a  beehive; 
a  comrade,  equally  uncouth  in  garb,  and  without  a  hat, 
straggled  along  at  his  heels,  with  a  long  rifle  on  his 
shoulder.  To  these  succeeded  half  a  dozen  others,  some 
with  axes  and  some  with  rifles,  for  no  one  stirs  far  from 
the  camp  without  his  firearms,  so  as  to  be  ready  either  for 
wild  deer  or  wild  Indians. 

2.  After  proceeding  some  distance,  we  came  to  an  open 
glade  on  the  skirts  of  the  forest.  Here  our  leader  halted, 
and  then  advanced  quietly  to  a  low  bush,  on  the  top  of 


THE    CKANE    FOURTH    READER. 

which  I  perceived  a  piece  of  honeycomb.  This,  I  found, 
was  the  bait  for  the  wild  bees.  Several  were  humming 
about  it  and  diving  into  its  cells.  When  they  had  laden 
themselves  with  honey,  they  would  rise  into  the  air  and 
dart  off  in  a  straight  line,  almost  with  the  velocity  of  a 
bullet. 

3.  The  hunters  watched  attentively  the  course  they  took, 
and  then  set  off  in  the  same  direction,  stumbling  along 
over  twisted  roots  and  fallen  trees,  with  their  eyes  turned 
to  the  sky.  In  this  way  they  traced  the  honey-laden  bees 
to  their  hive  in  the  hollow  trunk  of  a  blasted  oak,  where, 
after  buzzing  about  for  a  moment,  they  entered  a  hole 
about  sixty  feet  from  the  ground.  Two  of  the  bee-hunters 
now  plied  their  axes  vigorously  at  the  foot  of  the  tree,  to 
level  it  with  the  ground.  The  mere  spectators,  in  the  mean 
time,  drew  off  to  a  cautious  distance,  to  be  out  of  the  way 
of  the  falling  tree  and  the  vengeance  of  its  inmates. 

4.  The  jarring  blows  of  the  axe  seemed  to  have  no  effect 
in  alarming  or  disturbing  this  most  industrious  commu- 
nity. They  continued  to  ply  their  usual  occupations,  some 
arriving  full-freighted  into  port,  others  sallying  forth  on 
new  expeditions,  like  so  many  merchantmen  in  a  money- 
making  metropolis,  little  suspicious  of  impending  bank- 
ruptcy and  downfall.  At  length  down  came  the  tree  with 
a  tremendous  crash,  bursting  open  from  end  to  end,  and 
displaying  all  the  hoarded  treasures  of  the  common  wealth. 

5.  The  bees  seemed  stupefied  by  the  catastrophe  and 
unsuspicious  of  its  cause,  and  remained  crawling  and 
buzzing  about  the  ruins  without  offering  us  any  molesta- 
tion. 

6.  Every  one  of  the  party  now  fell  to,  with  spoon  and 


THE    CKANE   FOUETH   KEADEK. 


203 


hunting-knife,  to  scoop  out  the  flakes  of  honeycomb  with 
which  tha  hollow  trunk  was  stored.  Such  of  the  combs  as 
were  entire  were  placed  in  camp-kettles,  to  be  conveyed  to 
the  encampment ;  those  which  had  been  shivered  in  the  fall 
were  devoured  on  the  spot.  Every  stark  bee-hunter  was 
to  be  seen  with  a  rich  morsel  in  his  hand,  dripping  about 
his  fingers,  and  disappearing  as  rapidly  as  a  cream  tart 
before  the  holiday  appetite  of  a  schoolboy. 

Washington  Irving. 


LESSON^  LXVII. 


Ab  er  broth'ock 

buoy 

per'il  otis 

mar^i  ner§ 

scoured 

wick'ed  ness 

plagwe 

f^end§ 

ves^sel 

joy'ange 

pliin^dered 

gur'glmg 

THE  INCHCAPE  ROCK. 

Robert  Southey  (1774-1843)  was  of  English 
parentage.  He  was  the  son  of  a  linen-draper.  He 
was  an  apt  scholar  and  a  fine  writer.  He  wrote 
many  poems  and  much  prose,  and  he  once  held  the 
position  of  poet-laureate  of  England.  He  was  un- 
successful in  all  other  callings,  but  as  a  writer  he 
became  famous.  Among  his  poems  are  The  Cata- 
ract of  Lodore,  Roprecht  the  Robber,  The  Battle 
of  Blenheim,  Mary,  the  Maid  of  the  Inn,  and 
The  Well  of  8t.  Keyne. 

ROBERT  SOUTHEY.  -        • 

1.  No  STIR  in  the  air,  no  stir  in  the  sea, 
The  ship  was  as  still  as  she  could  be; 
Her  sails  from  heaven  received  no  motion, 
Her  keel  was  steady  in  the  ocean. 


204  THE    CRANE   FOURTH   READER. 

2.  Without  either  sign  or  sound  of  their  shock 
The  waves  flowed  over  the  Inchcape  Kock ; 
So  little  they  rose,  so  little  they  fell, 

They  did  not  move  the  Inchcape  Bell. 

3.  The  good  old  Abbot  of  Aberbrothock 

Had  placed  that  bell  on  the  Inchcape  Rock; 
On  a  buoy  in  the  storm  it  floated  and  swung. 
And  over  the  waves  its  warning  rung. 

4.  When  the  Rock  was  hid  by  the  surges'  swell, 
The  mariners  heard  the  warning  bell ; 

And  then  they  knew  the  perilous  Rock, 
And  blessed  the  Abbot  of  Aberbrothock. 

5.  The  sun  in  heaven  was  shining  gay, 
All  things  were  joyful  on  that 'day; 

The  sea-birds  screamed  as  they  wheeled  round, 
And  there  was  joyance  in  their  sound. 

6.  The  buoy  of  the  Inchcape  Bell  was  seen 
A  darker  speck  on  the  ocean  green ; 

Sir  Ralph  the  Rover  walked  his  deek. 
And  he  fixed  his  eye  on  the  darker  speck. 

7.  He  felt  the  cheering  power  of  spring, 
It  made  him  whistle,  it  made  him  sing ; 
His  heart  was  mirthful  to  excess. 
But  the  Rover's  mirth  was  wickedness. 

8.  His  eye  was  on  the  Inchcape  float; 
Quoth  he,  ''  My  men,  put  out  the  boat, 
And  row  me  to  the  Inchcape  Rock, 

And  I  '11  plague  the  Abbot  of  Aberbrothock." 


THE   CEANE   FOUETH   EEADEE.  205 

9.  The  boat  is  lowered,  the  boatmen  row, 
And  to  the  Inchcape  Rock  they  go; 
Sir  Ralph  bent  over  from  the  boat, 
And  he  cut  the  bell  from  the  Inchcape  float. 

10.  Down  sunk  the  bell,  with  a  gurgling  sound. 
The  bubbles  rose  and  burst  around; 

Quoth  Sir  Ralph,  "  The  next  who  comes  to  the  Rock, 
Won't  bless  the  Abbot  of  Aberbrothock." 

11.  Sir  Ralph  the  Rover  sailed  away. 

He  scoured  the  seas  for  many  a  day; 
And  now  grown'  rich  with  plundered  store, 
He  steers  his  course  for  Scotland's  shore. 

12.  So  thick  a  haze  o'erspreads  the  sky 
•  They  cannot  see  the  sun  on  high; 

The  wind  hath  blown  a  gale  all  day. 
At  evening  it  hath  died  away. 

13.  On  the  deck  the  Rover  takes  his  stand. 
So  dark  it  is  they  see  no  land. 

Quoth  Sir  Ralph,  "  It  will  be  lighter  soon, 
•For  there  is  the  dawn  of  the  rising  moon." 

14.  "  Canst  hear,"  said  one,  "  the  breakers  roar  ? 
For  methinks  we  should  be  near  the  shore." 
"  Now  where  we  are  I  cannot  tell. 

But  I  wish  I  could  hear  the  Inchcape  Bell." 

15.  They  hear  no  sound,  the  swell  is  strong; 
Though  the  wind  hath  fallen,  they  drift  along, 
Till  the  vessel  strikes  with  a  shivering  shock: 
Cried  they,  ''  It  is  the  Inchcape  Rock ! " 


206  THE   CRANE   FOURTH   READER. 

16.  Sir  Ralph  the  Rover  tore  his  hair, 
He  curst  himself  in  his  despair; 
The  waves  rush  in  on  every  side, 
The  ship  is  sinking  beneath  the  tide. 

17.  But  even  in  his  dying  fear 

One  dreadful  sound  could  the  Rover  hear, 
A  sound  as  if  with  the  Inchcape  Bell 
The  fiends  below  were  ringing  his  knell. 


A  SUMMER  DAY. 

There  was  not  on  that  day  a  speck  to  stain 
The  azure  heaven:  the  blessed  sun  alone. 
In  unapproachable  divinity, 
Career'd  rejoicing  in  the  fields  of  light. 
How  beautiful,  beneath  the  bright  blue  sky. 
The  billows  heave !  one  glowing  green  expanse, 
Save  where  along  the  line  of  bending  shore. 
Such  hue  is  thrown,  as  when  the  peacock's  neck 
Assumes  its  proudest  tint  of  amethyst, 
Embathed  in  emerald  glory :  all  the  flocks 
Of  ocean  are  abroad :  like  floating  foam 
The  sea-gulls  rise  and  fall  upon  the  waves : 
With  long  protruded  neck  the  cormorants 
Wing  their  far  flight  aloft,  and  round  and  round 
The  plovers  wheel,  and  give  their  note  of  joy. 
It  was  a  day  that  sent  into  the  heart 
A  summer  feeling :  even  the  insect  swarms, 


THE   CRANE   FOURTH   READER. 


207 


From  the  dark  nooks  and  coverts  issued  forth 
To  sport  through  one  day  of  existence  more. 
The  solitary  primrose  on  the  bank 
Seem'd  now  as.  if  it  had  no  cause  to  mourn 
Its  bleak  autumnal  birth ;  the  rock  and  shores, 
The  forests,  and  the  everlasting  hills, 
Smiled  in  the  joyful  sunshine;  they  partook 
The  universal  blessing. 

Robert  Southey. 


lesso:n^  lxyiii. 


skep^ti€  al 
pre  pos'ter  ous 
vm^di  €a  ted 
de  mortal  iz  mg 


de  vised' 
€om'm6n  wealth 
mm'i  a  ture 
a  vaira  ble 


res'tau  rants  (to) 
vig'i  lant 
lar'ee  nj- 
de  Im'quents 


THE  GEORGE  JUNIOR  REPUBLIC. 

1.  When  the  George  Junior  Eepublic  was  founded  six 
years  ago,  many  persons  were  skeptical  as  to  the  outcome. 
The  idea  of  allowing  a  hundred  children  from  the  New 
York  slums,  many  of  them  police  court  offenders,  to  govern 
themselves,  was  novel  and  was  widely  regarded  as  pre- 
posterous. 

2.  A  trial  of  six  years  has  vindicated  the  plan  of  Mr. 
George.    Since  1895  the  Junior  Republic  has  received  247 


208  THE    CRANE   FOURTH   READER. 

citizens.  Only  one  of  these  has  been  arrested  since  leav- 
ing it,  and  only  seven  are  not  holding  satisfactory  posi- 
tions or  working  their  way  through  school.  Such  success 
has  been  attained  by  none  of  the  New  York  State  institu- 
tions. 

3.  William  E.  George  has  long  been  interested  in  the 
neglected  children  of  the  New  York  slums.  He  began  by 
taking  some  of  them  for  an  outing  every  summer  into  the 
country.  His  observations  led  him  to  believe  that  this 
charity  was  demoralizing  those  who  received  it,  so  he 
adopted  as  his  motto,  "Nothing  without  labor."  Then 
came  the  problem  of  keeping  order,  and  to  solve  it  he  de- 
vised the  Junior  Republic. 

4.  On  a  farm  of  200  acres  at  Freeville,  New  York,  exists 
this  little  nation, —  a  commonwealth  within  a  common- 
wealth,— in  which  the  operations  of  the  business  world 
are  reproduced  in  miniature.  The  "  citizens  "  from  eight 
to  eighteen  years  old  are  made  self-reliant,  and  are  taught 
the  necessity  of  law.  They  are  self-governing,  for  although 
Mr.  George  can  veto  any  law,  he  seldom  does  so.  "  I  don't 
consider  it  my  place  to  interfere,''  he  said  the  other  day. 
"  The  '  citizens '  are  the  first  to  suffer  from  mistakes,  and 
so  the  first  to  correct." 

5.  Experience  has  taught  the  community  many  useful 
lessons  in  good-citizenship.  For  instance,  it  has  learned 
that  when  a  "citizen"  won't  work,  the  industrious  ones 
have  to  pay  a  tax  to  support  him.  This  has  led  to  a  va- 
grancy law,  which  imposes  a  fine  on  any  person  who  has 
less  than  a  dollar  in  the  Republic's  currency.  The  culprit 
is  compelled  to  work  this  out.  Furtherm_ore,  if  he  has  r 
money  he  must  earn  some  to  buy  food. 


I 


THE    CRANE    FOURTH   READER.  209 

6.  A  small  boy  was  sent  to  the  Republic  recently  for  lar- 
ceny. He  had  gooli  clothes  and  money.  While  it  lasted  he 
lived  at  the  hotel  for  $5  a  week,  and  refused  to  work.  Then 
he  got  cheaper  lodgings  and  board  and  traded  his  clothes. 
Finally,  he  appeared  at  the  hotel  dining-room  and  asked 
to  be  trusted  for  a  meal.  He  was  refused,  and  the  next 
morning  he  was  digging  in  the  ditch  —  the  only  job  avaiil- 
able. 

7.  A  few  of  the  ^^  citizens ''  prove  incapable  of  keeping  a 
job.  They  are  put  on  the  ^^  list  crowd,"  and  a  labor  agency 
sells  their  work  at  five  cents  an  hour,  in  return  providing 
them  with  food  and  lodging.  The  sand  company  recently 
took  advantage  of  brisk  times  to  speculate  in  labor.  It 
bought  up  the  "  list  crowd  "  at  five  cents  an  hour  and  let 
out  the  work  at  fifteen. 

8.  All  the  business  of  the  community,  it  is  to  be  under- 
stood, is  conducted  by  the  "  citizens."  The  older  ones  form 
corporations  and  manage  the  restaurants  and  hotels.  A 
high  tariff  on  imports  prevents  anyone  from  making  un- 
due profits.  In  all  departments  of  manual  labor  —  ma- 
sonry, carpentry,  farming  —  the  usual  wages  are  ten  cents 
an  hour. 

9.  A  short  time  ago  the  carpenters  of  the  Republic  un- 
derbid all  outside  firms,  and  secured  a  contract  for  a  new 
building  worth  several  thousand  dollars.  There  is  a  man- 
ual training  school,  and  the  Republic  pays  the  students 
$2  a  week.  Its  revenues  come  from  a  poll  tax,  from  fineS; 
and  the  tariff.  Besides,  it  has  concessions  which  it  sells 
at  auction. 

10.  The  laws  are  rigidly  enforced  by  the  Republic's  own 
policemen.     Trials  are  usually  by  jury.     Prison  means 

— M 


210  THE    CKANE   FOUKTH   READEK. 

work  on  the  "  gang ''  without  pay.  The  police  are  vigilant, 
and  sometimes  arrest  runaway  "  citizens  "  in  neighboring 
towns.  All  the  children  are  under  the  legal  guardian- 
ship of  Mr.  George,  and  so  may  lawfully  be  sent  back  to 
the  Republic  if  they  escape. 

11.  The  community's  laws  are  made  by  a  majority  vote 
in  the  town  meeting. 

The  great  majority  of  the  citizens  are  delinquents 
whose  offenses  vary  from  murder,  larceny  and  burglary 
to  general  disorderly  conduct  and  truancy.  The  fact  that 
those  who  have  gone  out  from  the  Republic  have  proved 
good  members  of  society  almost  without  exception,  is  a 
remarkable  triumph  for  Mr.  George's  methods. 

World's  Work. 


Labor  is  rest  —  from  the  sorrows  that  greet  us ; 
Rest  from  all  petty  vexations  that  meet  us, 
Rest  from  sin-promptings  that  ever  entreat  us, 

Rest  from  world-sirens  that  lure  us  to  ill. 
Work  —  and  pure  slumbers  shall  wait  on  thy  pillow; 
Work— -thou  shalt  ride  over  Care's  coming  billow; 
Lie  not  down  wearied  'neath  Woe's  weeping  willow! 

Work  with  a  stout  heart  and  resolute  will! 

— Osgood. 

There  is  no  rest  from  labor  on  earth.  There  are  always  duties  to  per- 
form and  functions  to  exercise,  functions  which  are  ever  enlarging  and 
extending,  in  ^proportion  to  the  growth  of  our  moral  and  mental  station. 
Man  is  born  to  work,  and  he  must  work  while  it  is  day.  "Have  I  not," 
said  a  great  worker,  "  an  eternity  to  rest  in  ?  " — Tynman. 


I 


THE    CRANE    FOURTH   READER. 


211 


ear' oiled 


LESSON  LXIX. 

swam§ 
em^berg 


fash^ion 

re  mem'ber§ 


WORDS   AND  SONGS. 

Robert  Louis  Stevenson  (1850-1894)  was  a 
Scotch  author.  He  studied  law,  but  gave  it  up  to 
become  a  writer.  On  account  of  his  health,  he 
went  to  Samoa  in  1889,  where  he  died,  after  five 
years.  One  of  his  well-known  books  is  Treasure 
Island.  He  was  of  a  gentle  nature,  and  many- 
people  mourned  his  early  death. 


Bright  is  the  ring  of  words 

When  the  right  man  rings  them, 
Fair  the  fall  of  songs 
When  the  singer  sings  them. 

Still  are  they  carolled  and  said  — 

On  wings  are  .they  carried  — 
After  the  singer  is  dead 
And  the  maker  buried. 


ROBERT  LOUIS  STEVENSON. 


2.   Low  as  the  singer  lies 

In  the  field  of  heather, 
Songs  of  his  fashion  bring 

The  swains  together. 
And  when  the  west  is  red 

With  the  sunset  embers, 
The  lover  lingers  and  sings 

And  the  maid  remembers. 

Robert  Louis  Stevenson. 


[From  "Poems  and  Ballads."    By  permission  of  Chas.  Scrlbner's  Sons.] 


212 


THE   CRANE   FOURTH   READER. 


in'stant 

thoughts  (thgts) 
strain  M 


LESSON   LXX. 

pierged 
sea^weed 

YO^gh  (f) 


surge 
scene 
boer 


ELIHU  BURRITT. 


THE  DUTCH  BOER  AND  HIS  HORSE. 

Elihu  Burritt  (1811-1879)  was  born  at  New 
Britain,  Conn.  He  was  a  blacksmith  by  trade, 
but  by  close  study  he  became  a  fine  scholar  in 
Latin,  Greek,  Hebrew,  and  Arabic.  He  wrote 
many  essays  and  gave  many  lectures.  His  best 
work  was  the  teaching  of  the  need  of  peace. 

1.  When  I  was  a  small  boy,  too 
young  to  read,  I  heard  a  story  of 
a  horse  that  made  my  cheeks  wet 
with  tears.  The  man  who  owned  the 
horse  lived  at  the  Cape  of  Good 
Hope,  and  was  called  a  Dutch  boer,  or  a  poor  man  of 
Dutch  blood  who  was  born  in  that  hot  land,  and  tilled  it 
with  the  plow  and  the  hoe. 

2.  He  was  a  kind  man  at  heart,  though  rough  in  look 
and  speech.  He  loved  his  horse,  and  she  loved  him,  and 
was  with  him  by  day  and  near  him  by  night.  She  was 
proud  to  have  liim  on  her  back,  and  would  dash  through 
swamps,  ponds,  and  fire,  too,  if  he  wished  it. 

3.  But  a  day  came  that  was  to  prove  the  faith  and  love 
of  her  stout  heart  and  the  soul  of  the  man.  A  great  storm 
came  down  on  the  sea.  The  waves  roared,  and  rose  as  high 
as  the  hills.  Their  white  tops  foamed  with  rage  at  the 
winds  that  struck  them  with  all  their  might.    The  clouds 


THE    CEANE   FOUKTH   KEADEK.  213 

flapped  them  with  black  wings.     Night  drew  near,  and 
it  was  a  scene  to  make  one  quake  with  fear. 

4.  Eight  in  the  midst  of  all  this  rage  and  roar  of  wind 
and  sea,  a  great  ship,  with  sails  rent  and  helm  gone,  came 
in  sight.  It  rode  on  the  high,  white  waves,  straight  on  the 
reef  of  rocks,  too  far  from  the  shore  to  reach  it  with  a 
rope.  The  ship  was  full  of  young  and  old,  whose  cries  for 
help  could  be  heard,  loud  as  was  the  voice  of  the  storm. 
Their  boats  were  gone  like  the  shells  of  eggs.  There  was 
no  wood,  nor  time  to  build  a  raft.  The  waves  leaped  on 
the  ship  like  great  white  wolves  bent  on  their  prey.  How 
could  one  soul  of  them  all  be  saved? 

5.  Those  on  shore  could  but  look  on  the  sad  sight.  They 
could  give  no  help.  They  had  no  boat  nor  raft,  and  their 
hearts  were  sick  in  them.  Then  the  Dutch  boer  was  seen 
to  draw  near  at  full  speed  on  his  horse.  Down  he  came  to 
the  shore,  nor  did  he  stop  there  one  instant  of  time. 

6.  He  spoke  a  word  to  her  which  she  knew,  and  with  no 
touch  of  whip  or  spur,  she  dashed  in  and  swam  the  sea  to 
the  ship's  side  with  a  rope  tied  to  her  tail.  She  wheeled, 
and  stamped  her  way  on  the  white  surge  to  the  shore,  with 
a  row  of  men  clinging  to  the  rope.  There  she  stayed  but 
for  a  breath.  At  the  soft  word  and  touch  she  knew  so  well, 
she  turned  and  once  more  plowed  through  the  surge  to  the 
ship,  and  brought  back  a  load  of  young  and  old. 

7.  Once  more  she  stood  on  the  shore,  amidst  tears  of  joy 
that  fell  from  all  eyes.  She  stood  there  weak,  as  wet  with 
sweat  as  with  the  sea.  The  night  fell  down  fast  on  the  ship. 
There  were  still  a  few  more  left  on  it,  and  their  cries  for 
help  came  on  the  wind  to  the  shore.  The  thoughts  that 
tugged  at  the  brave  man's  heart  will  not  be  known  in  this 


214  THE    CEANE   FOURTH   READER. 

world.  The  cries  from  the  ship  pierced  it  through  and 
through.  He  could  not  bear  to  hear  them.  He  spoke  a 
low,  soft  word  to  his  horse.  He  jmt  his  hand  to  her  neck, 
and  seemed  to  ask  her  if  she  could  do  it.  She  turned  her 
head  to  him  with  a  look  that  meant,  '^  If  you  wish  it,  I  will 
try."  He  did  wish  it,  and  she  tried,  to  the  last  pulse  of 
her  heart.    She  walked  straight  out  into  the  wild  sea. 

8.  All  on  shore  held  their  breath  at  the  sight.  She  was 
weak,  but  brave.  Now  and  then  the  white  surge  buried 
her  head;  then  she  rose  and  shook  the  salt  water  out  of 
her  eyes.  Foot  by  foot  she  neared  the  ship.  Now  the  last 
man  had  caught  the  rope.  Once  more  she  turned  her  head 
to  the  shore.  Shouts  and  prayers  came  from  it  to  keep  up 
her  strength. 

9.  The  work  was  for  a  life  she  loved  more  than  her  own. 
She  broke  her  veins  for  it  half-way  between  ship  and 
shore.  She  could  lift  her  feet  no  more.  Her  mane  lay 
like  black  seaweed  on  the  waves  while  she  tried  to  catch 
one  more  breath. 

10.  Then,  with  a  groan,  she  went  down  with  all  the  load 
she  bore,  and  a  cry  went  out  from  the  land  for  the  loss  of 
a  life  that  had  saved  from  death  nearly  a  ship's  crew  of 
men. 

11.  Thus  dared  and  died  in  the  sea  the  brave  Dutch  boer 
and  his  horse.    They  were  as  friends,  one  in  life,  one  in 
death ;  and  both  might  well  have  place  with  the  best  lives^ 
and  deaths  we  read  of  in  books  for  young  or  old.  f 

Elihu  Burritt. 
Where  is  the  Cape  of  Good  Hope? 
In  what  country  do  the  Dutch  Boers  live? 
From  what  country  did  they  come? 
Why  is  the  world  interested  in  the  Boers  at  present? 


i 


THE    CKANE    FOURTH    READER. 


215 


lesso:n^  lxxi. 

m  ter  la^'mg  e^  ult'ant 

arter  nat  ing  av'e  nue§ 

€a  na'di  an  €am'e  r6n§ 

ju'bi  lant  eriinch'mg 

MAKING  MAPLE   SUGAR    IN 

PART   I. 


lan^guid  (gwid) 
aisles 
barsamg 
tan^gled 

CANADA. 


Charles  W.  Gordon  is  best  known  as  "  Ralph 
Connor,"  his  literary  name.  He  was  born  in  the 
province  of  Ontario,  and  is  a  Presbyterian  min- 
ister in  Winnipeg,  Manitoba.  He  writes  of  pio- 
neer life  in  western  Canada,  and  his  best-known 
books  are:  Black  Rock,  The  Sky  Pilot,  and  The 
Man  from  Glengarry. 


CHARLES    W.   GORDON. 


1.  The  sugar-time  is,  in  many  ways,  the  best  of  all  the 
year.  It  is  the  time  of  crisp  mornings,  when  the  "crust 
bears,''  and  the  boys  go  crunching  over  all  the  fields  and 
through  the  woods ;  the  time,  too,  of  sunny  noons  and  chilly 
nights.  Winter  is  still  near,  but  he  has  lost  most  of  his 
grip,  and  all  his  terror.  For  the  earth  has  heard  the  call 
of  spring  from  afar,  and  knows  that  soon  she  will  be  seen, 
dancing  her  shy  dances,  in  the  sunny  spaces  of  the  leafless 
woods. 

2.  Then,  by-and-by,  from  all  the  open  fields  the  snow  is 
driven  back  into  the  fence-corners  and  lies  there  in  soiled 
and  sullen  heaps.  In  the  woods  it  still  lies  deep ;  but  there 
is  everywhere  the  tinkle  of  running  water,  and  it  is  not 
long  till  the  brown  leaf  carpet  begins  to  show  in  patches 
through  the  white. 

3.  Then,  overhead,  the  buds  begin  to  swell  and  thrill  with 
the  new  life,  and,  when  it  is  broad  noon,  all  through  the 


216  THE    CRANE    FOURTH    READER. 

woods  a  thousand  voices  pass  the  glad  word  that  winter's 
day  is  done  and  that  all  living  things  are  free.  But  when 
night  draws  up  over  the  tree-tops  and  the  shadows  steal 
down  the  forest  aisles,  the  jubilant  voices  die  down  and  a 
chill  fear  creeps  over  the  gleeful,  swelling  buds  that  they 
have  been  too  sure  and  too  happy ;  and  all  the  more  if  from 
the  northeast  there  sweeps  down,  as  often  happens,  a  sting- 
ing storm  of  sleet  and  snow,  winter's  last  savage  slap.  'But 
what  matters  that?  The  very  next  day,  when  the  bright, 
warm  rays  trickle  down  through  the  interlacing  branches, 
bathing  the  buds  and  twigs  and  limbs  and  trunks  and 
flooding  all  the  woods,  the  world  grows  surer  of  its  new 
joy. 

4.  And  so,  in  alternating  hope  and  fear,  the  days  and 
nights  go  by,  till  an  evening  falls  when  the  air  is  languid 
and  a  soft  rain  comes  up  from  the  south,  falling  all  night 
long  over  the  buds  and  trees  like  warm,  loving  fingers. 
Then  the  buds  break  for  very  joy,  and  timid  green  things 
push  up  through  the  leaf  mold ;  and  from  the  swamps  the 
little  frogs  begin  to  pipe,  at  first  in  solo,  but  soon  in  ex- 
ultant chorus,  till  the  whole  moist  night  is  vocal,  and  then 
every  one  knows  that  the  sugar-time  is  over,  and  troughs 
and  spiles  are  gathered  up,  and,  with  sap-barrels  and 
kettles,  are  stored  in  the  back  shed  for  another  year. 

5.  But  no  rain  came  before  the  night  for  sugaring- 
off .  It  was  a  perfect  sugar  day,  warm,  bright,  and  still, 
following  a  night  of  sharp  frost.  The  long  sunny  after- 
noon was  deepening  into  twilight  when  the  Camerons 
drove  up  to  the  sugar-camp  in  their  big  sleigh,  bringing 
with  them  the  Manse  party.  Ronald  and  Don,  with  Aunt 
Kirsty,  were  there  to  receive  them.    It  was  one  of  those 


THE    CEANE    FOURTH    READER. 


217 


rare  evenings  of  the  early  Canadian  spring.  The  bare 
woods  were  filled  with  the  tangled  rays  of  light  from  the 
setting  sun.  Here  and  there  a  hillside  facing  the  east  lay 
in  shadow  that  grew  black  where  the  balsams  and  cedars 
grew  in  clumps.  But  everywhere  else  the  light  fell  sweet 
and  silent  about  the  bare  trunks,  filling  the  long  avenues 
under  the  arching  maple  limbs  with  a  yellow  haze. 

6.  In  front  of  the  shanty  the  kettles  hung  over  the  fire  on 
a  long  pole  which  stood  in  an  upright  crutch  at  either  end. 
Under  the  big  kettle  the  fire  was  roaring  high,  for  the 
fresh  sap  needed  much  boiling  before  the  syrup  and  taffy 
could  come.  But  under  the  little  kettle  the  fire  burned  low, 
for  that  must  not  be  hurried. 


barsam 
ir  re  press^i  bk 
Qer'e  mo  nie§ 
de  pog^it  ed 


LESSO]^  LXXIL 

rev'er  enge 
de  r lesion  (zhiin) 
pre  §Id^ed 
heart'!  1^ 


ar  ranged' 
bulg'ing 
an  nounged' 
shrieks 


MAKING   MAPLE   SUGAR    IN    CANADA. 


PART   II. 

1.  Over  the  fire  and  kettles  Ronald  presided,— black, 
grimy,  and  silent;  and  to  Don  fell  the  duty  of  doing  the 
honors  of  the  camp,  and  right  worthily  did  he  do  his  part. 
He  greeted  his  mother  with  reverence,  cuifed  his  young 
brother,  kissed  his  little  sister  Jennie,  tossing  her  high, 
and  welcomed  with  warm  heartiness  Mrs.  Murray  and  her 
niece.    The  Airds  had  not  yet  come,  but  all  the  rest  were 


218  THE    CRANE    FOURTH    READER. 

there.  The  Finlaysons,  the  McKerachers,  Dan  Campbell's 
boys  and  their  sister  Betsy,  whom  everyone  called  '^  Betsy 
Dan,"  red-headed,  freckled,  and  irrepressible;  the  Mc- 
Gregors, and  a  dozen  or  more  of  the  wildest  youngsters 
that  could  be  found  in  all  the  Indian  lands.  Depositing 
their  baskets  in  the  shanty,  for  they  had  no  thought  of 
fasting,  they  crowded  about  the  fire. 

2.  Soon  Don's  shout  was  heard :  ^'  Tea,  ladies  and  gentle- 
men; take  your  seats  at  the  tables."  And  speedily  there 
was  a  rush  and  scramble,  and  in  a  few  moments  the  great 
heaps  of  green  balsam  boughs  arranged  around  the  fire 
were  full  of  boys  and  girls  pulling,  pinching,  and  tum- 
bling over  one  another  in  wild  glee.  The  toast  stood  in 
brown  heaps  on  birch-bark  plates  beside  the  fire,  the  bas- 
kets were  carried  out  of  the  shanty  bulging  with  cakes, 
the  tea  was  bubbling  in  the  big  tin  tea-pail,  and  everything 
was  ready  for  the  feast. 

3.  After  the  tea  was  over  the  great  business  of  the  even- 
ing came  on.  Eonald  announced  that  the  talfy  was  ready, 
and  Don,  as  master  of  ceremonies,  immediately  cried  out : 

"  The  gentlemen  will  provide  the  ladies  with  plates." 
"  Plates ! "  echoed  the  boys,  with  a  laugh  of  derision. 
"  Plates,"  repeated  Don,  stepping  back  to  a  great  snow- 
bank, near  a  balsam  clump,  and  returning  with  a  piece  of 
^^  crust."  At  once  there  was  a  scurry  to  the  snowbank, 
and  soon  every  one  had  a  ^'  snow  plate  "  ready.  Then  Eon- 
ald and  Don  slid  the  little  kettle  along  the  pole  off  the  fire, 
and  with  tin  dippers  began  to  pour  the  hot  syrup  upon 
the  "snow  plates,"  where  it  immediately  hardened  into 
taffy.     Then  the  pulling  began.     What  fun  there  was, 


I  THE    CRANE    FOURTH    READER.  219 

what  larks,  what  shrieks,  what  romping  and  tumbling,  till 
all  were  heartily  tired,  both  of  the  taffy  and  the  fun. 

4.  Then  followed  the  sugar-molding.  The  little  kettle 
was  set  back  on  the  fire  and  kept  carefully  stirred,  while 
tin  dishes  of  all  sorts,  shapes  and  sizes, —  milk-pans,  pattie- 
pans,  mugs,  and  cups, —  well  greased  with  pork-rind,  were 
set  out  in  order,  imbedded  in  snow. 

5.  The  last  act  of  all  was  the  making  of  '^  hens'  nests."  A 
dozen  or  so  of  hens'  eggs,  blown  empty,  and  three  goose- 
eggs  for  the  grown-ups,  were  set  in  snow  nests,  and  care- 
fully filled  from  the  little  kettle.  In  a  few  minutes  the 
nests  were  filled  with  sugar  eggs,  and  the  sugaring-off 
was  over. 

Ralph  Connor  (  Charles  W.  Gordon  ) . 

[From  "The  Man  from  Glengarry."  Copyright  1901,  by  Fleming  H.  Revell  Company. 
Reprinted  by  permission.] 


LESSON^  LXXIII. 

beads 
six't^ 
suit 
Greeks 

nine't^ 
learn^ed 
millions 
bal  loon' 

THE   SUN. 

sev'en  ty 
beefsteak 
house'keep  mg 
in  vig'i  ble 

1.  How  FAR  away  from  us  is  the  sun?  Are  we  to  answer 
just  as  we  think,  or  just  as  we  know!  On  a  fine  summer 
day,  when  we  can  see  him  clearly,  it  looks  as  if  a  short 
trip  in  a  balloon  might  take  us  to  his  throne  in  the  sky, 
yet  we  know  —  because  the  astronomers  tell  us  so  —  that 


220  THE    CKANE    FOUKTH    READER. 

he  is  more  than  ninety-one  millions  of  miles  distant  from 
our  earth. 

2.  Ninety-one  millions  of  miles !  It  is  not  easy  even  to 
imagine  this  distance;  but  let  us  fancy  ourselves  in  an 
express  train  going  sixty  miles  an  hour  without  making  a 
single  stop.  At  that  flying  rate  we  could  travel  from  the 
earth  to  the  sun  in  one  hundred  and  seventy-one  years, — 
that  is,  if  we  had  a  road  to  run  on  and  time  to  spare  for 
the  journey. 

3.  Arriving  at  the  palace  of  the  sun,  we  might  then  have 
some  idea  of  his  size.  A  learned  Greek  who  lived  more 
than  two  thousand  years  ago  thought  the  sun  about  as 
large  as  the  Peloponesus ;  if  he  had  lived  in  our  country, 
he  might  have  said,  "  About  as  large  as  Massachusetts." 

4.  As  large  as  their  peninsula !  The  other  Greeks  laughed 
at  him  for  believing  that  the  shining  ball  was  so  vast. 
How  astonished  they  would  have  been  —  yes,  and  the  wise 
man,  too  —  if  they  had  been  told  that  the  brilliant  lord  of 
the  day  was  more  than  a  million  times  as  large  as  the 
whole  world! 

5.  Our  own  world  measures  eight  thousand  miles  across, 
while  the  sun  measures  more  than  eight  hundred  and  fifty- 
two  thousand.  If  the  earth  and  the  sun  were  cut  in  halves, 
and  the  flat  side  of  the  half -earth  laid  on  the  flat  side  of 
the  half-sun,  we  could  see  that  one  hundred  and  six  such 
earths  would  look  only  like  a  string  of  small  beads  across 
the  half-sun. 

6.  Is  it  wonderful  that  a  giant  like  this  should  give  out 
such  a  quantity  of  light  and  heat  1  If  we  take  a  magnif y- 
ing-glass  and  gather  the  sun's  rays  to  a  point  over  a  piece 
of  brown  paper,  we  shall  soon  see  the  paper  blaze  in  the 


THE    CKANE    FOURTH   READER.  221 

fire  of  the  sunlight.     How  strong  that  far-away  giant 
would  be  if  he  had  things  all  his  own  way ! 

7.  Sir  John  Herschel  tells  us  that,  at  the  Cape  of  Good 
Hope,  the  sun  cooked  a  beefsteak  and  roasted  eggs  for  him ! 
The  meat  and  the  eggs  were  put  in  a  box  with  a  glass  lid 
and  placed  so  that  the  fiery  rays  fell  upon  them,  and  in  a 
little  while  the  dinner  was  ready.  This  is  rather  easy 
housekeeping,  but  it  would  not  suit  us  very  well :  we  might 
not  succeed  in  it. 

8.  Those  who  know  say  that  we  should  be  frozen  to  death 
if  the  sun  were  cold.  On  the  other  hand,  if  the  fierce  rays 
fell  upon  us  with  all  their  might,  we  should  be  burnt  up. 
But  we  have  in  the  air  about  us  an  invisible  veil,  made  of 
those  tiny  particles  of  water  that  the  sunbeams  draw  up 
from  the  many  waters  of  the  earth,  and  scatter  all  around, 
cooling  the  sunny  air  and  making  it  more  pleasant  for  us. 


We  knew  it  would  rain,  for  all  the  morn 

A  spirit  on  slender  ropes  of  mist 
Was  lowering  its  golden  buckets  down 

Into  the  vapory  amethyst 
Of  marsh,  and  swamp,  and  dismal  fen. 

Scooping  the  dew  that  lay  in  the  flowers, 
Dipping  the  jewels  out  of  the  sea. 

To  scatter  them  over  the  land  in  showers. 

We  knew  it  would  rain,  for  the  poplars  showed 
The  white  of  their  leaves,  and  the  amber  grain 

Shrunk  in  the  wind, —  and  the  lightning  now 
Is  tangled  in  tremulous  skeins  of  rain. 

— Aldrioh. 


THE   CRANE   FOURTH   READER. 


downward  (werd) 

eor'Yi  d6r§ 
si'lent  IJ' 


LESSOI^  LXXIV. 

re  §em^ble§ 
mero  die§ 
en  deav^or  (er) 
mar'tial  (shal) 


de  void' 
in  fest' 
waft'ed 
sootbe 


THE   DAY   IS   DONE. 

Henry  Wadsworth  Longfellow  (1807-1882) 
was  born  at  Portland,  Maine.  He  graduated 
from  Bowdoin  College  at  the  age  of  18.  He 
went  abroad  twice  in  order  to  fit  himself  for 
his  work  as  teacher,  first  in  Bowdoin,  and  sec- 
ondly in  Harvard  College.  His  poems  have  been 
translated  into  ten  different  languages.  He  was 
one  of  the  finest  literary  scholars  America  ever 
produced. 

1.  The  day  is  done,  and  the  darkness 
Falls  from  the  wings  of  Night 
As  a  feather  is  wafted  downward 
From  an  eagle  in  his  flight. 


HENRY    W.   LONGFELLOW. 


I  see  the  lights  of  the  village 

Gleam  through  the  rain  and  the  mist; 
And  a  feeling  of  sadness  comes  o'er  me 

That  my  soul  cannot  resist  — 


3.   A  feeling  of  sadness  and  longing 
That  is  not  akin  to  pain, 
And  resembles  sorrow  only 
As  the  mist  resembles  rain. 


THE    CRANE   FOURTH   READER.  223 

4.  Come,  read  to  me  some  poem, 

Some  simple  and  heartfelt  lay. 
That  shall  soothe  this  restless  feeling 
And  banish  the  thoughts  of  day. 

5.  Not  from  the  grand  old  masters. 

Not  from  the  bards  sublime. 
Whose  distant  footsteps  echo 
Through  the  corridors  of  time; 

6.  For,  like  strains  of  martial  music. 

Their  mighty  thoughts  suggest 
Life's  endless  toil  and  endeavor, — 
And  to-night  I  long  for  rest. 

7.  Read  from  some  humble  poet. 

Whose  songs  gushed  from  his  heart 
As  showers  from  the  clouds  of  summer 
Or  tears  from  the  eyelids  start  — 

.8.   Who  through  long  days  of  labor, 
And  nights  devoid  of  ease, 
Still  heard  in  his  soul  the  music 
Of  wonderful  melodies. 

9.   Such  songs  have  power  to  quiet 
The  restless  pulse  of  care, 
And  come  like  the  benediction 
That  follows  after  prayer. 


224  THE    CRANE   FOURTH   READER. 

10.  Then  read  from  the  treasured  volume 

The  poem  of  thy  choice, 
And  lend  to  the  rhyme  of  the  poet 
The  beauty  of  thy  voice. 

11.  And  the  night  shall  be  filled  with  music, 

And  the  cares  that  infest  the  day 
Shall  fold  their  tents  like  the  Arabs, 
And  as  silently  steal  away. 


Henry  W.  Longfellow. 


Write  all  the  figures  of  speech  you  can  find  in  this  poem. 
Which  is  the  finest  stanza?    Why? 


.  LESSOIsr   LXXV. 

ap  pal/ed'  de  lib  er  a'tion 

€om  par'a  tive  1^  in  voFiin  ta  ry  trav'el  er 

THE  SKATER  AND  THE  WOLVES. 

1.  I  SPENT  the  winter  of  1844-5  in  the  northern  part  of 
Maine,  and  gave  most  of  my  time  to  the  enjoyment  of  the 
wild  sports  of  this,  at  that  time,  little  known  part  of  our 
country.  To  none  of  these  sports  was  I  more  passionately 
devoted  than  to  skating.  The  deep,  secluded  lakes  and 
rivers,  which  in  that  climate  are  covered  with  ice  for  sev- 
eral months  every  winter,  afforded  an  excellent  place  for 
that  healthful  pastime.  Often  did  I  put  on  my  skates  and 
almost  fly  up  and  down  the  glassy  streams,  my  blood  tin- 
gling through  every  vein  in  the  enjo^TQent  of  this  manly 
exercise.    Many  times  these  rambles  were  made  by  moon- 


THE   CRANE   FOURTH   READER.  225 

light,  and  on  one  such  occasion  I  had  an  adventure  which 
I  still  recall  with  a  shudder. 

2.  One  evening  I  had  left  the  home  of  my  friend  just  at 
dusk,  intending  to  skate  a  short  distance  up  the  Kennebec, 
which  flowed  within  a  few  rods  of  the  house.  The  night 
was  clear  and  beautiful.  The  full  moon  threw  her  beams 
on  the  mighty  forests  which  lined  the  banks,  and  thousands 
of  stars  twinkled  in  the  sky  and  sparkled  from  the  ice-cov- 
ered trees.  All  was  still.  The  cold  seemed  to  hold  tree, 
light,  water,  and  every  living  thing  in  its  silent  embrace. 

3.  I  had  skated  about  two  miles,  when  I  came  to  the 
mouth  of  a  brook  that  emptied  into  the  river.  I  started  up 
this  small  stream  to  explore  its  course.  Century-old  fir 
trees  and  hemlocks  met  over  my  head  and  formed  an  ever- 
green arch  glittering  and  sparkling  in  its  winter  dress. 
Under  the  arch  all  was  dark,  but  I  was  young  and  fearless, 
and  when  I  peered  into  the  unbroken  forest  my  heart 
leaped  for  joy.  My  loud  hurrah  rang  through  the  forest, 
and  I  listened  to  the  sound  as  it  echoed  again  and  again 
until  it  died  away  and  all  was  in  deep  silence,  save  here 
and  there  the  sound  of  the  wings  of  some  lonely  night-bird 
in  its  flight  through  the  gloomy  forest. 

4.  Suddenly  a  sound  arose  which  seemed  to  come  from 
under  the  ice.  At  first  low  and  tremulous,  it  ended  in  a 
long,  wild  howl.  I  was  appalled.  Never  had  I  heard  any- 
thing like  it.  Then  I  heard  the  brushwood  on  the  shore 
snap  as  from  the  tread  of  an  animal.  For  a  moment  I 
was  unable  to  think  or  plan,  but  I  was  soon  myself  again, 
and  looked  around  for  a  means  of  escape. 

5.  Looking  through  the  green  tunnel  formed  by  the  over- 
hanging trees,  I  could  see  the  moonlight  on  the  river,  and, 

—15 


226  THE    CEANE    FOURTH   READElt. 

as  no  other  way  of  escape  seemed  possible,  I  darted  toward 
the  opening  like  an  arrow.  The  distance  was  not  more 
than  one  hundred  yards,  and  a  swallow  could  scarcely  have 
swept  over  it  faster  than  I  did;  but  turning  my  eyes 
toward  the  shore,  I  saw  two  dark  objects  dashing  through 
the  brushwood  with  a  speed  almost  twice  as  great  as  mine. 
From  their  speed  and  from  the  short  barks  which  they 
occasionally  set  up,  I  knew  that  they  were  two  of  the 
much-dreaded  gray  wolves. 

6.  Never  before  had  I  met  with  one  of  these  animals, 
but  from  the  descriptions  of  them  which  had  been  given  to 
me,  I  felt  little  desire  to  make  their  acquaintance.  Their 
fierceness  and  their  untiring  strength  make  them  very 
dangerous  to  the  traveler  who  is  overtaken  by  night. 

7.  The  bushes  on  the  banks  almost  flew  by  me  as  I  dashed 
on  in  my  flight.  I  had  almost  reached  the  opening  —  only 
a  few  seconds  more  and  I  would  have  been  comparatively 
safe  —  when  my  pursuers  appeared  directly  opposite  me 
on  the  bank,  which  at  this  point  rose  to  a  height  of  about 
ten  feet.  There  was  no  time  for  deliberation.  I  bent  my 
head  lower  and  dashed  madly  onward.  The  wolves  leaped, 
but  they  had  taken  no  account  of  my  speed  and  landed  be- 
hind me,  while  I  glided  out  on  the  surface  of  the  river. 

8.  Instinct  directed  my  course  toward  the  house.  I  was 
now  some  distance  in  advance  of  the  wolves,  but  their  wild 
howls  told  me  that  they  were  after  me  again.  I  felt  neither 
fear  noi-  gladness.  One  thought  of  home,  of  the  dear  ones 
that  awaited  my  return,  of  their  tears  if  they  should  never 
see  me  again,  and  then  all  the  strength  of  mind  and  body 
was  exerted  in  a  final  effort  for  escape. 

9.  I  was  perfectly  at  home  on  the  ice.    Many  were  the 


THE   CRANE   FOURTH   READER.  227 

days  I  had- spent  in  skating,  but  I  had  never  thought  that  it 
would  sometime  be  the  only  means  of  my  rescue.  Every 
half -minute  the  yelps  of  my  pursuers  told  me  that  they 
were  close  behind.  They  came  nearer  and  nearer.  I  could 
hear  their  breathing,  and  the  steady  patter  of  their  feet  on 
the  ice.  Every  muscle  and  nerve  of  my  body  was  exerted 
to  the  utmost.  Feathery  snowflakes  of  ice  spun  from  the 
runners  of  my  skates,  and  the  trees  along  the  shore  seemed 
to  dance  in  the  uncertain  light. 

10.  The  wolves  were  growling  horribly,  and  were  al- 
most close  enough  to  spring  upon  me  when  I  made  an 
involuntary  turn  to  one  side.  The  eager  animals,  unable 
to  stop  or  to  turn  suddenly  on  the  smooth  ice,  fell  and 
glided  on  far  ahead.  Their  long  tongues  were  lolling  from 
their  mouths,  their  white  teeth  sparkled,  their  dark,  shaggy 
breasts  were  covered  with  foam,  and  as  they  swept  past  me 
their  eyes  glared,  and  they  set  up  a  raging  howl.  Then  the 
thought  flashed  across  my  mind  that  I  could  escape  them  in 
this  way  —  that  I  would  turn  to  one  side  as  often  as  they 
came  near  me,  since  their  feet  are  so  constructed  that  they 
can  run  on  the  ice  only  in  a  straight  line. 

11.  As  soon  as  the  wolves  had  regained  their  feet,  they 
started  after  me  again.  The  race  continued  for  some  rods 
down  the  stream,  and  they  were  again  close  to  me  when  I 
turned  my  course  to  one  side  and  let  them  slide  past  me. 
A  wild  howl  greeted  my  movement,  and  the  wolves  glided 
away  on  their  haunches  a  perfect  picture  of  helplessness 
and  harmless  fury.  I  repeated  this  maneuver  two  or  three 
times,  gaining  nearly  a  hundred  yards  every  time,  the 
wolves  becoming  more  enraged  at  every  turning.    But  I 


228  THE    CKANE    FOUKTH   EEADEK. 

soon  came  near  the  house,  and  my  dogs,  roused  by  the 
noise,  rushed  furiously  from  their  kennel. 

12.  The  wolves  took  the  hint,  stopped  their  mad  course, 
and  in  a  few  moments  turned  and  fled.  I  watched  them 
until  their  dark  forms  disappeared  behind  a  neighboring 
hill ;  then  I  took  off  my  skates  and  went  home  with  feelings 
that  can  be  imagined  better  than  they  can  be  described. 

— Translated  from  the  German. 

Why  are  wolves  more  dangerous  in  winter  than  in  other  seasons  of 
the  year? 


LESSON^  LXXVI. 

prof 'it  a  ble  pre  gip  i  taction  dif 'fi  eul  t^ 

twittering  trMg'ing  be  gin'ning 

AWAKENING   OF   RIP  VAN   WINKLE. 

1.  The  great  error  in  Eip  Van  Winkle's  composition 
was  an  insuperable  aversion  to  all  kinds  of  profitable 
labor.  It  could  not  be  from  the  want  of  assiduity  or  per- 
severance ;  for  he  would  sit  on  a  wet  rock,  with  a  rod  as 
long  and  heavy  as  a  Tartar's  lance,  and  fish  all  day  without 
a  murmur,  even  though  he  should  not  be  encouraged  by  a 
single  nibble.  He  would  carry  a  fowling-piece  on  his 
shoulder  for  hours  together,  trudging  through  woods  and 
swamps,  and  up  hill  and  down  dale,  to  shoot  a  few  squir- 
rels or  wild  pigeons.  He  would  never  refuse  to  assist  a 
neighbor,  even  in  the  roughest  toil,  and  was  a  foremost 
man  at  all  country  frolics  for  husking  Indian  corn,  or 
building  stone  fences ;  the  women  of  the  village,  too,  used 
to  employ  him  to  run  their  errands,  and  to  do  such  little 


THE    CKANE    FOURTH    READER. 

odd  jobs  as  their  less  obliging  husbands  would  not  do  for 
them.  In  a  word,  Rip  was  ready  to  attend  to  anybody's 
business  but  his  own;  but  as  to  doing  family  duty,  and 
keeping  his  farm  in  order,  he  found  it  impossible. 

2.  Rip  Van  Winkle,  however,  was  one  of  those  happy 
mortals,  of  foolish,  well-oiled  dispositions,  who  take  the 
world  easy,  eat  white  bread  or  brown,  whichever  can  be 
got  with  least  thought  or  trouble,  and  would  rather  starve 
on  a  penny  than  work  for  a  pound. 

3.  In  a  long  ramble  on  a  fine  autumnal  day.  Rip  had 
unconsciously  scrambled  to  one  of  the  highest  parts  of  the 
Kaatskill  Mountains.  He  was  after  his  favorite  sport  of 
squirrel-shooting,  and  the  still  solitudes  had  echoed  and 
reechoed  with  the  reports  of  his  gun.  Panting  and 
fatigued,  he  threw  himself,  late  in  the  afternoon,  on  a 
green  knoll,  covered  with  mountain  herbage,  that  crowned 
the  brow  of  the  precipice. 

4.  On  waking,  he  found  himself  on  the  green  knoll 
whence  he  had  first  seen  the  old  man  of  the  glen.  He 
rubbed  his  eyes  —  it  was  a  bright,  sunny  morning.  The 
birds  were  hopping  and  twittering  among  the  bushes,  and 
the  eagle  was  wheeling  aloft,  and  breasting  the  pure  moun- 
tain breeze.  "  Surely,"  thought  Rip, ''  I  have  not  slept  here 
all  night."  He  recalled  the  occurrences  before  he  fell 
asleep.  The  strange  man  with  the  keg  of  liquor  —  the 
mountain  ravine  —  the  wild  retreat  among  the  rocks  —  the 
woe-begone  party  at  ninepins  —  the  flagon  —  "  Oh !  that 
flagon!  that  wicked  flagon!"  thought  Rip  —  ^^what  excuse 
shall  I  make  to  Dame  Van  Winkle  ? " 

5.  He  looked  around  for  his  gun,  but  in  place  of  the 
clean,  well-oiled  fowling-piece,  he  found  an  old  firelock 


230  THE    CEANE   FOUKTH   EEADEE. 

lying  beside  him,  the  barrel  incrusted  with  rust,  the  lock 
falling  off,  and  the  stock  worm-eaten.  He  now  suspected 
that  the  grave  roisterers  of  the  mountain  had  put  a  trick 
upon  him,  and,  having  dosed  him  with  liquor,  had  robbed 
him  of  his  gun.  Wolf,  too,  had  disappeared,  but  he  might 
have  strayed  away  after  a  squirrel  or  partridge.  He 
whistled  after  him,  and  shouted  his  name,  but  all  in  vain ; 
the  echoes  repeated  his  whistle  and  shout,  but  no  dog  was 
to  be  seen. 

6.  He  determined  to  revisit  the  scene  of  the  last  evening's 
gambol,  and  if  he  met  with  any  of  the  party,  to  demand  his 
dog  and  gun.  As  he  rose  to  walk,  he  found  himself  stiff  in 
the  joints,  and  wanting  in  his  usual  activity.  "  These 
mountain  beds  do  not  agree  with  me,"  thought  Rip,  "  and 
if  this  frolic  should  lay  me  up  with  a  fit  of  rheumatism,  I 
shall  have  a  blessed  time  with  Dame  Van  Winkle."  With 
some  difficulty  he  got  down  into  the  glen;  he  found  the 
gully  up  which  he  and  his  companion  had  ascended  the 
preceding  evening;  but  to  his  astonishment  a  mountain 
stream  was  now  foaming  down  it,  leaping  from  rock  to 
rock,  and  filling  the  glen  with  babbling  murmurs. 

7.  As  he  approached  the  village  he  met  a  number  of 
people,  but  none  whom  he  knew,  which  somewhat  surprised 
him,  for  he  had  thought  himself  acquainted  with  every  one 
in  the  country  round.  Their  dress,  too,  was  of  a  different 
fashion  from  that  to  which  he  was  accustomed.  They  all 
stared  at  him  with  equal  marks  of  surprise,  and  whenever 
they  cast  their  eyes  upon  him,  invariably  stroked  their 
chins.  The  constant  recurrence  of  this  gesture  induced 
Rip,  involuntarily,  to  do  the  same,  when,  to  his  astonish- 
ment, he  found  his  beard  had  grown  a  foot  long ! 


THE    CRANE   FOURTH   READER.  231 

8.  He  had  now  entered  the  skirts  of  the  village.  A  troop 
of  strange  children  ran  at  his  heels,  hooting  after  him, 
and  pointing  at  his  gray  beard.  The  dogs,  too,  not  one  of 
which  he  recognized  for  an  old  acquaintance,  barked  at 
him  as  he  passed.  The  very  village  was  altered;  it  was 
larger  and  more  populous.  There  were  rows  of  houses 
which  he  had  never  seen  before,  and  those  which  had  been 
his  familiar  haunts  had  disappeared.  Strange  names  were 
over  the  doors  —  strange  faces  at  the  windows  —  every- 
thing was  strange.  His  mind  now  misgave  him;  he  be- 
gan to  doubt  whether  both  he  and  the  world  around  him 
were  not  bewitched.  Surely  this  was  his  native  village, 
which  he  had  left  but  the  day  before.  There  stood  the 
Kaatskill  Mountains  —  there  ran  the  silver  Hudson  at  a 
distance  —  there  was  every  hill  and  dale  precisely  as  it  had 
always  been  —  Rip  was  sorely  perplexed.  "  That  flagon 
last  night,"  thought  he,  ^'  has  addled  my  poor  head  sadly ! " 

9.  It  was  with  some  difficulty  that  he  found  the  way  to  his 
own  house,  which  he  approached  with  silent  awe,  expecting 
every  moment  to  hear  the  shrill  voice  of  Dame  Van  Winkle. 
He  found  the  house  gone  to  decay  —  the  roof  fallen  in,  the 
windows  shattered,  and  the  doors  oif  the  hinges.  A  half- 
starved  dog  that  looked  like  Wolf  was  skulking  about  it. 
Rip  called  him  by  name,  but  the  cur  snarled,  showed  his 
teeth  and  passed  on.  This  was  an  unkind  cut  indeed  — 
'^  My  very  dog,''  sighed  poor  Rip,  "  has  forgotten  me ! " 

10.  He  entered  the  house,  which,  to  tell  the  truth.  Dame 
Van  Winkle  had  always  kept  in  neat  order.  It  was  empty, 
forlorn,  and  apparently  abandoned.  The  desolateness 
overcame  all  his  connubial  fears  —  he  called  loudly  for 


232 


THE    CRANE    FOURTH   READER. 


his  wife  and  cliildren  —  the  lonely  chambers  rang  for 
a  moment  with  his  voice,  and  then  again  all  was  silence. 

11.  He  now  hurried  forth,  and  hastened  to  his  old  re- 
sort, the  village  inn  —  but  it,  too,  was  gone.  A  large, 
rickety  wooden  building  stood  in  its  place,  with  great  gap- 
ing windows,  some  of  them  broken  and  mended  with  old 
hats  and  petticoats,  and  over  the  door  was  painted,  "  The 
Union  Hotel,  by  Jonathan  Doolittle.''  Instead  of  the  great 
tree  that  used  to  shelter  the  quiet  little  Dutch  inn  of  yore, 
there  now  was  reared  a  tall  naked  pole,  with  something  on 
top  that  looked  like  a  red  nightcap,  and  from  it  was  flut- 
tering a  flag,  on  which  was  a  singular  assemblage  of  stars 
and  stripes  —  all  this  was  strange  and  incomprehensible. 

12.  He. recognized  on  the  sign,  however,  the  ruby  face  of 
King  George,  under  which  he  had  smoked  so  many  a 
peaceful  pipe;  but  even  this  was  singularly  metamor- 
phosed. The  red  coat  was  changed  for  one  of  blue  and 
buff,  a  sword  was  held  in  the  hand  instead  of  a  scepter,  the 
head  was  decorated  with  a  cocked  hat,  and  underneath  was 
painted  in  large  characters.  General  Washington. 

13.  The  appearance  of  Rip,  with  his  long  grizzled  beard, 
his  rusty  fowling-piece,  his  uncouth  dress,  and  an  army  of 
women  and  children  at  his  heels,  soon  attracted  the  atten- 
tion of  the  tavern  politicians.  They  crowded  round  him, 
eying  him  from  head  to  foot  with  great  curiosity.  Tli« 
orator  bustled  up  to  him,  and,  drawing  him  partly  aside, 
inquired  "  on  which  side  he  voted ! ''  Rip  stared  in  vacant 
stupidity.  Another  short  but  busy  little  fellow  pulled  him 
by  the  arm,  and,  rising  on  tiptoe,  inquired  in  his  ear, 
"  Whether  he  was  Federal  or  Democrat  1 "  Rip  was 
equally  at  a  loss  to  comprehend  the  question;    when  a 


THE   CRANE   FOUETH   READER. 


233 


knowing,  self-important  old  gentleman,  in  a  sharp  cocked 
hat,  made  his  way  through  the  crowd,  putting  them  to  the 
right  and  left  with  his  elbows  as  he  passed,  and  planting 
himself  before  Van  Winkle,  with  one  arm  akimbo,  the 
other  resting  on  his  cane,  his  keen  eyes  and  sharp  hat  pen- 
etrating, as  it  were,  into  his  very  soul,  demanded  in  an 
austere  tone,  "  what  brought  him  to  the  election  with  a  gun 
on  his  shoulder  and  a  mob  at  his  heels,  and  whether  he 
meant  to  breed  a  riot  in  the  village  ? "  "  Alas !  gentlemen,'' 
cried  Rip,  somewhat  dismayed,  "I  am  a  poor  quiet  man, 
a  native  of  the  place,  and  a  loyal  subject  of  the  king,  God 
bless  him!'' 

14.  Here  a  general  shout  burst  from  the  bystanders  — 
"A  tory!  a  tory!  a  spy!  a  refugee!  hustle  him!  away 
with  him ! "  It  was  with  difficulty  that  the  self-important 
man  in  the  cocked  hat  restored  order;  and,  having  as- 
sumed a  tenfold  austerity  of  brow,  demanded  again  of  the 
unknown  culprit  what  he  came  there  for  and  whom  he  was 
seeking !  The  poor  man  humbly  assured  him  that  he  meant 
no  harm,  but  merely  came  there  in  search  of  some  of  his 
neighbors,  who  used  to  keep  about  the  tavern. 

15.  ^^Well  —  who  are  they?  —  name  them." 

Eip  bethought  himself  a  moment,  and  inquired, 
"Where's  Nicholas  Vedder!" 

16.  There  was  a  silence  for  a  little  while,  when  an  old 
man  replied,  in  a  thin,  piping  voice :  "  Nicholas  Vedder ! 
why,  he  is  dead  and  gone  these  eighteen  years.  There  was 
a  wooden  tombstone  in  the  churchyard  that  used  to  tell  all 
about  him,  but  that 's  rotten  and  gone  too." 

17.  "  Where 's  Brom  Butcher  ? " 

18.  "  Oh,  he  went  off  to  the  army  in  the  beginning  of 


234  THE    CEANE   FOURTH   READER. 

the  war ;  some  say  he  was  killed  at  the  storming  of  Stony 
Point  —  others  say  he  was  drowned  in  a  squall  at  the  foot 
of  Anthony's  Nose.  I  don't  know  —  he  never  came  back 
again." 

19.  "Where's  Van  Bummel,  the  school -master  ? " 

20.  "  He  went  off  to  the  wars,  too,  was  a  great  militia 
general,  and  is  now  in  Congress." 

21.  Kip's  heart  died  away  at  hearing  of  these  sad 
changes  in  his  home  and  friends,  and  finding  himself  thus 
alone  in  the  world.  Every  answer  puzzled  him,  too,  by 
treating  of  such  enormous  lapses  of  time,  and  of  matters 
which  he  could  not  understand :  war  —  Congress  —  Stony 
Point;  he  had  no  courage  to  ask  after  any  more  friends, 
but  cried  out  in  despair,  "Does  nobody  here  know  Rip 
Van  Winkle?" 

22.  "  Oh,  Rip  Van  Winkle ! "  exclaimed  two  or  three, 
"oh,  to  be  sure!  that's  Rip  Van  Winkle  yonder,  leaning 
against  the  tree." 

23.  Rip  looked,  and  beheld  a  precise  counterpart  of  him- 
self, as  he  went  up  the  mountain :  apparently  as  lazy,  and 
certainly  as  ragged.  The  poor  fellow  was  now  completely 
confounded.  He  doubted  his  own  identity,  and  whether 
he  was  himself  or  another  man.  In  the  midst  of  his  bewil- 
derment, the  man  in  the  cocked  hat  demanded  who  he  was, 
and  what  was  liis  name  1 

24.  "  God  knows,"  exclaimed  he,  at  his  wits'  end ;  "  I  'm 
not  myself  —  I'm  somebody  else  —  that's  me  yonder — • 
no  —  that's  somebody  else  got  into  my  shoes  —  I  was  my- 
self last  night,  but  I  fell  asleep  on  the  mountain,  and 
they've  changed  my  gun,  and  everything's  changed,  and 


i 


THE   CRANE   FOUETH   READER.  235 

I'm  changed,  and  I  can't  tell  what's  my  name,  or  who 
I  am ! " 

25.  The  bystanders  began  now  to  look  at  each  other,  nod, 
wink  significantly,  and  tap  their  fingers  against  their  fore- 
heads. There  was  a  whisper,  also,  about  securing  the  gun, 
and  keeping  the  old  fellow  from  doing  mischief,  at  the  very 
suggestion  of  which  the  self-important  man  in  the  cocked 
hat  retired  with  some  precipitation.  At  this  critical  mo- 
ment a  fresh,  comely  woman  pressed  through  the  throng 
to  get  a  peep  at  the  gray-bearded  man.  She  had  a  chubby 
child  in  her  arms,  which,  frightened  at  his  looks,  began  to 
cry.  "Hush,  Rip,"  cried  she,  "hush,  you  little  fool;  the 
old  man  won't  hurt  you."  The  name  of  the  child,  the  air 
of  the  mother,  the  tone  of  her  voice,  all  awakened  a  train  of 
recollections  in  his  mind.  "  "What  is  your  name,  my  good 
woman? "  he  asked. 

26.  "  Judith  Gardenier." 

27.  "  And  your  father's  name  ? " 

28.  "  Ah,  poor  man,  Rip  Van  Winkle  was  his  name,  but 
it 's  twenty  years  since  he  went  away  from  home,  with  his 
gun,  and  never  has  been  heard  of  since,— his  dog  came 
home  without  him;  but  whether  he  shot  himself,  or  was 
carried  away  by  the  Indians,  nobody  can  tell.  I  was  then 
but  a  little  girl." 

29.  Rip  had  but  one  question  more  to  ask ;  and  he  put  it 
with  a  faltering  voice: 

"  Where 's  your  mother  ? " 

30.  "  Oh,  she  too  had  died  but  a  short  time  since ;  she 
broke  a  blood-vessel  in  a  fit  of  passion  at  a  New  England 
peddler." 

31.  There  was  a  drop  of  comfort  at  least,  in  this  intelli- 


236  THE   CRANE   FOURTH   READER. 

gence.  The  honest  man  could  contain  himself  no  longer. 
He  caught  his  daughter  and  her  child  in  his  arms.  ^^  I  am 
your  father!"  cried  he;  "Young  Rip  Van  Winkle  once — 
old  Eip  Van  Winkle  now!  Does  nobody  know  poor  Rip 
Van  Winkler' 

32.  All  stood  amazed,  until  an  old  woman  tottering  out 
from  among  the  crowd,  put  her  hand  up  to  her  brow,  and 
peering  under  it  in  his  face  for  a  moment,  exclaimed, 
"  Sure  enough,  it  is  Rip  Van  Winkle  —  it  is  himself !  Wel- 
come home  again,  old  neighbor.     Why,  where  have  you 

been  these  twenty  long  years  1 " 

Washington  Irving. 
Read  this  as  it  is  in  the  works  of  Irving. 
Who  were  the  first  settlers  of  New  York? 
Who  was  Henry  Hudson? 


LESSON  LXXVIL 

el'e  gy  mold^er  ing  ee^sta  sy- 

eur^few  (fti)  in  ev^i  ta  h\e  iin  fath^omed 

ELEGY  WRITTEN    IN   A   COUNTRY  CHURCH-YARD. 

Thomas  Gray  (1716-1771)  was  one  of  the  most  learned  men  of  his  day, 
although  he  led  a  secluded  life.  His  poem,  Elegy  in  a  Country  Ghurch- 
Yard,  is  one  of  the  finest  and  most  celebrated  pieces  of  literature  in  the 
English  language.     He  sipent  all  his  life  in  England. 

[selected  stanzas.] 

1.   The  curfew  tolls  the  knell  of  parting  day ; 
The  lowing  herd  winds  slowly  o'er  the  lea ; 
The  plowman  homeward  plods  his  weary  way, 
And  leaves  the  world  to  darkness  and  to  me. 


THE    CEANE    FOURTH   READER.  237 

2.  Now  fades  the  glimmering  landscape  on  the  sight, 

And  all  the  air  a  solemn  stillness  holds, 
Save  where  the  beetle  wheels  his  droning  flight, 
And  drowsy  tinklings  lull  the  distant  folds. 

3.  Beneath  those  rugged  elms,  that  yew  tree's  shade 

Where  heaves  the  turf  in  many  a  moldering  heap, 
Each  in  his  narrow  cell  forever  laid, 
The  rude  forefathers  of  the  hamlet  sleep. 

4.  For  them  no  more  the  blazing  hearth  shall  burn. 

Or  busy  housewife  ply  her  evening  care ; 
No  children  run  to  lisp  their  sire's  return. 
Or  climb  his  knees  the  envied  kiss  to  share. 

5.  The  boast  of  heraldry,  the  pomp  of  power. 

And  all  that  beauty,  all  that  wealth  ere  gave, 
Await  alike  the  inevitable  hour: 

The  paths  of  glory  lead  but  to  the  grave. 

6.  Can  storied  urn,  or  animated  bust, 

Back  to  its  mansion  call  the  fleeting  breath? 
Can  Honor's  voice  provoke  the  silent  dust, 

Or  Flattery  soothe  the  dull,  cold  ear  of  Death? 

7.  Perhaps  in  this  neglected  spot  is  laid 

Some  heart  once  pregnant  with  celestial  fire ; 
Hands,  that  the  rod  of  empire  might  have  swayed, 
Or  waked  to  ecstasy  the  living  lyre. 

8.  Full  many  a  gem  of  purest  ray  serene 

The  dark  unfathomed  caves  of  ocean  bear: 
Full  many  a  flower  is  born  to  blush  unseen. 
And  waste  its  sweetness  on  the  desert  air. 

Thomas  Gray. 


238  THE   CRANE   FOURTH   READER. 

LESSOE"  LXXVIII. 

o  ver  whelmed'  verg'er  tes'ti  mo  n^ 

ab  lu'tion§  eow'ard  iqe  ex  am'pk  (egz) 

TOM  BROWN'S  EXPERIENCE. 

Thomas  Hughes  (1823-1896)  is  best  known  as  the  author  of  Tom 
Brown's  School-Days,  Tom  Brown  at  Oxford,  and  The  Manliness  of  Christ. 
He  was  educated  at  Rugby  under  Dr.  Thomas  Arnold,  and  at  Oxford.  He 
was  a  lawyer  of  ability,  and  in  later  life  represented  his  district  in  Parlia- 
ment. He  was  a  firm  friend  of  the  working  classes,  a  fearless  reformer, 
and  a  powerful  debater.  His  name  will  ever  be  dear  to  children  for  the 
famous  stories  of  Tom  Brown. 

1.  Within  a  few  minutes,  therefore,  of  their  entry,  all 
the  other  boys  who  slept  in  Number  4  had  come  up.  The 
little  fellows  went  quietly  to  their  own  beds,  and  began  un- 
dressing and  talking  to  each  other  in  whispers ;  while  the 
elder,  among  whom  was  Tom,  sat  chatting  about  on  one 
another^s  beds,  with  their  jackets  and  waistcoats  off. 

2.  Poor  little  Arthur  was  overwhelmed  with  the  novelty 
of  his  position.  The  idea  of  sleeping  in  the  room  with 
strange  boys  had  clearly  never  crossed  his  mind  before, 
and  was  as  painful  as  it  was  strange  to  him.  He  could 
hardly  bear  to  take  his  jacket  off;  however,  presently, 
with  an  effort,  off  it  came,  and  then  he  paused  and  looked 
at  Tom,  who  was  sitting  at  the  bottom  of  his  bed  talking 
and  laughing. 

3.  "Please,  Brown,"  he  whispered,  "may  I  wash  my 
face  and  hands  I " 

4.  "Of  course,  if  you  like,''  said  Tom,  staring;  "that's 
your  washhand-stand,  under  the  window,  second  from  your 
bed.    You  '11  have  to  go  down  for  more  water  in  the  morn- 


THE    CKANE   FOURTH   READER.  239 

ing  if  you  use  it  all."  And  on  he  went  with  his  talk,  while 
Arthur  stole  timidly  from  between  the  beds  out  to  his 
washhand-stand,  and  began  his  ablutions,  thereby  drawing 
for  a  moment  on  himself  the  attention  of  the  room. 

5.  On  went  the  talk  and  laughter.  Arthur  finished  his 
washing  and  undressing,  and  put  on  his  night-gown.  He 
then  looked  around  more  nervously  than  ever.  Two  or 
three  of  the  little  boys  were  already  in  bed  sitting  up  with 
their  chins  on  their  knees.  The  light  burned  clear,  the 
noise  went  on.  It  was  a  trying  moment  for  the  poor  little 
lonely  boy ;  however,  this  time  he  didn't  ask  Tom  what  he 
might  or  might  not  do,  but  dropped  on  his  knees  by  his 
bedside,  as  he  had  done  every  day  from  his  childhood,  to 
open  his  heart  to  Him  who  heareth  the  cry  and  beareth 
the  sorrows  of  the  tender  child,  and  the  strong  man  in 
agony. 

6.  Tom  was  sitting  at  the  bottom  of  his  bed,  unlacing  his 
boots,  so  that  his  back  was  toward  Arthur,  and  he  didn't 
see  what  had  happened,  and  looked  up  in  wonder  at  the 
sudden  silence.  Then  two  or  three  boys  laughed  and 
sneered,  and  a  big  brutal  fellow,  who  was  standing  in  the 
middle  of  the  room,  picked  up  a  slipper,  and  shied  it  at  the 
kneeling  boy,  calling  him  a  sniveling  young  shaver.  Then 
Tom  saw  the  whole,  and  the  next  moment  the  boot  he  had 
,iust  pulled  off  flew  straight  at  the  head  of  the  bully,  who 
had  just  time  to  throw  up  his  arm  and  catch  it  on  his  elbow. 

7.  ''Confound  you.  Brown,  what's  that  for?"  roared 
he,  stamping  with  pain. 

8.  "  Never  mind  what  I  mean,"  said  Tom,  stepping  on 
the  floor,  every  drop  of  blood  in  his  body  tingling ;  "  if  any 
fellow  wants  the  other  boot,  he  knows  how  to  get  it." 


240  THE    CRANE   FOURTH   READER. 

9.  What  would  have  been  the  result  is  doubtful,  for  at 
this  moment  the  sixth  form  boy  came  in,  and  not  another 
word  could  be  said.  Tom  and  the  rest  rushed  into  bed  and 
finished  their  unrobing  there,  and  the  old  verger,  as  punc- 
tual as  the  clock,  had  put  out  the  candle  in  another  minute, 
and  toddled  on  to  the  next  room,  shutting  their  door  with 
his  usual  ^^  Good-night,  genPm'n." 

10.  There  were  many  boys  in  the  room  by  whom  that 
little  scene  was  taken  to  heart  before  they  slept.  But  sleep 
seemed  to  have  deserted  the  pillow  of  poor  Tom.  For 
some  time  his  excitement,  and  the  flood  of  memories  which 
chased  one  another  through  his  brain,  kept  him  from  think- 
ing or  resolving.  His  head  throbbed,  his  heart  leaped,  and 
he  could  hardly  keep  himself  from  springing  out  of  bed 
and  rushing  about  the  room. 

11.  Then  the  thought  of  his  own  mother  came  across 
him,  and  the  promise  he  had  made  at  her  knee,  years  ago, 
never  to  forget  to  kneel  by  his  bedside,  and  give  himself 
up  to  his  Father,  before  he  laid  his  head  on  the  pillow, 
from  which  it  might  never  rise;  and  he  lay  down  gently 
and  cried  as  if  his  heart  would  break.  He  was  only  four- 
teen years  old. 

12.  It  was  no  light  act  of  courage  in  those  days,  my  dear 
boys,  for  a  little  fellow  to  say  his  prayers  publicly,  even  at 
Rugby.  A  few  years  later,  when  Arnold's  manly  piety 
had  begun  to  leaven  the  school,  the  tables  turned;  before 
he  died,  in  the  school-house  at  least,  and  I  believe  in  the 
other  houses,  the  rule  was  the  other  way.  But  poor  Tom 
had  come  to  school  in  other  times. 

13.  The  first  few  nights  after  he  came  he  did  not  kneel 
down,  because  of  the  noise,  but  sat  up  in  bed  till  the  candle 


THE    CKANE   FOURTH   READER.  241 

was  out,  and  then  stole  out  and  said  his  prayers  in  fear, 
lest  some  one  should  find  him  out.  So  did  many  another 
poor  little  fellow.  Then  he  began  to  think  that  he  might 
just  as  well  say  his  prayers  in  bed,  and  then  that  it  didn't 
matter  whether  he  was  kneeling,  or  sitting,  or  lying  down. 
And  so  it  had  come  to  pass  with  Tom  as  with  all  who  will 
not  confess  their  Lord  before  men :  and  for  the  last  year 
he  had  probably  not  said  his  prayers  in  earnest  a  dozen* 
times. 

14.  Poor  Tom !  the  first  and  bitterest  feeling  which  was 
like  to  break  his  heart  was  the  sense  of  his  own  cowardice. 
The  vice  of  all  others  which  he  loathed  was  brought  in  and 
burned  in  on  his  own  soul.  He  had  lied  to  his  mother,  to 
his  conscience,  to  his  God.  How  could  he  bear  it?  And 
then  the  poor  little  weak  boy,  whom  he  had  pitied  and  al- 
most scorned  for  his  weakness,  had  done  that  which  he, 
braggart  as  he  was,  dared  not  do. 

15.  The  first  dawn  of  comfort  came  to  him  in  swearing 
to  himself  that  he  would  stand  by  that  boy  through  thick 
and  thin,  and  cheer  him,  and  help  him,  and  bear  his  bur- 
dens, for  the  good  deed  done  that  night.  Then  he  resolved 
to  write  home  next  day  and  tell  his  mother  all,  and  what 
a  coward  her  son  had  been.  And  then  peace  came  to  him 
as  he  resolved,  lastly,  to  bear  his  testimony  next  morning. 

16.  Next  morning  he  was  up  and  washed  and  dressed, 
all  but  his  jacket  and  waistcoat,  just  as  the  ten  minutes' 
bell  began  to  ring,  and  then  in  the  face  of  the  whole  room 
knelt  down  to  pray.  Not  five  words  could  he  say  —  the 
bell  mocked  him ;  he  was  listening  for  every  whisper  in  the 
room  —  what  were  they  all  thinking  of  him!     He  was 

-16 


242  THE   CRANE   FOURTH   READER. 

room  —  what  were  tliey  all  thinking  of  him?  He  was 
ashamed  to  go  on  kneeling,  ashamed  to  rise  from  his  knees. 
17.  At  last,  as  it  were  from  his  inmost  heart,  a  still  small 
voice  seemed  to  breathe  forth  the  words  of  the  publican, 
''God  be  merciful  to  me  a  sinner!''  He  repeated  them 
over  and  over,  clinging  to  them  as  for  his  life,  and  rose 
from  his  knees  comforted  and  humbled,  and  ready  to  face 
the  whole  world.  It  was  not  needed:  two  other  boys  be- 
sides Arthur  had  already  followed  his  example,  and  he 
went  down  to  the  great  school  with  a  glimmering  of  an- 
other lesson  in  his  heart  —  the  lesson  that  he  who  has  con- 
quered his  own  coward  spirit  has  conquered  the  whole 
outward  world. 

Thomas  Hughes. 


LESSON^  LXXIX. 
CROSSING  THE    BAR. 

Alfred  (Lord)  Tennyson  (1809-1892)  was  born  in  Lincolnshire,  Eng- 
land, and  died  on  the  Isle  of  Wight.  He  was  for  nearly  half  his  lifetime  the 
poet  laureate  of  England.  He  has  written  many  beautiful  verses.  His 
great  strength  was  in  his  sense  of  beauty  and  fine  power  of  expression. 

1.  Sunset  and  evening  star, 

And  one  clear  call  for  me! 
And  may  there  be  no  moaning  of  the  bar, 
When  I  put  out  to  sea, 

2.  But  such  a  tide  as  moving  seems  asleep, 

Too  full  for  sound  and  foam, 
When  that  which  drew  from  out  the  boundless  deep 
Turns  again  home. 


THE   CRANE   FOURTH   READER. 


243 


t 


3.  Twilight  and  evening  bell, 

And  after  that  the  dark! 
And  may  there  be  no  sadness  of  farewell, 
When  I  embark; 

4.  For  tho'  from  out  our  bourne  of  Time  and  Place 

The  flood  may  bear  me  far, 

I  hope  to  see  my  Pilot  face  to  face 

When  I  have  crost  the  bar. 

Alfbed  Tennyson. 


^narkd 

lines 

mi^'tle  toe 


LESSON^  LXXX. 

hedge 

im  mor^tal 


wea^rf 
seem'eth 
€0  quet'ting 
(ket) 


ALICE    CARY. 


PICTURES  OF   MEMORY. 


Alice  Caby  (1820-1871)  was  born  in  Ohio, 
and  spent  her  childhood  in  that  State.  Her 
later  life  was  spent  in  New  York  city.  Here, 
with  her  sister  Phoebe  Gary,  she  wrote  for  the 
press.  Together  they  published  a  large  volume 
of  their  poems,  Alice  wrote  several  prose  works. 
Among  her  poems  were:  Nobility,  An  Order  for 
a  Picture,  A  Dream  of  Home,  My  Dream  of 
Dreams,  Pictures  of  Memory,  The  Poet  to  the 
Painter,  Hide  and  Seek,  and  The  Old  Bomestead. 


1.   Among  the  beautiful  pictures 
That  hang  on  Memory's  wall, 
Is  one  of  a  dim  old  forest, 
That  seemeth  best  of  all ; 


244  THE    CRANE   FOURTH   READER. 

Not  for  its  gnarled  oaks  olden, 

Dark  with  the  mistletoe; 
Not  for  the  violets  golden 

That  shrouded  the  vale  below ; 
Not  for  the  milk-white  lilies 

That  lean  from  the  fragrant  hedge, 
Coquetting  all  day  with  the  sunbeams. 

And  stealing  their  golden  edge; 
Not  for  the  vines  on  the  upland 

Wliere  the  bright  red  berries  rest; 
Nor  the  pink,  nor  the  pale  sweet  cowslips, 

It  seemeth  to  me  the  best. 

2.  I  once  had  a  little  brother 

With  eyes  that  were  dark  and  deep ; 
In  the  lap  of  that  dim  old  forest 

He  lieth  in  peace  asleep; 
Light  as  the  down  of  the  thistle, 

Free  as  the  winds  that  blow. 
We  roved  there  the  beautiful  summers, 

The  summers  of  long  ago; 
But  his  feet  on  the  hills  grew  weary. 

And  one  of  the  autumn  eves 
I  made  for  my  little  brother 

A  bed  of  the  yellow  leaves. 

3.  Meekly  his  pale  arms  folded 

My  neck  in  a  last  embrace, 
As  the  light  of  immortal  beauty 

Silently  covered  his  face; 
And  when  the  arrows  of  sunset 

Lodged  in  the  tree-tops  bright, 


THE   CKANE   FOUKTH   KEADEK. 


245 


He  fell,  in  his  saint-like  beauty, 
Asleep  by  the  gates  of  light. 

Therefore  of  all  the  pictures 
That  hang  on  Memory's  wall, 

That  one  of  the  dim  old  forest 
Seemeth  the  best  of  all. 


Alice  Ca.ry. 


de  lighVM 
whisk'er§ 
bam  boo§^ 


RUDYxiKD    KIPLING. 


LESSON  LXXXI. 

quiv  er 

iin  der  neath' 

vl^brat  mg 

SPRING. 


reg'nant 
drag'gled 


RUDYARD  Kipling  (1865)  was  born  in  the  city 
of  Bombay,  India.  His  father  is  an  artist.  His 
mother,  Alice  Macdonald  Kipling,  is  a  Scotch 
woman  of  good  family.  Kipling  was  educated 
in  England.  His  first  writing  was  done  when 
he  was  doing  newspaper  work  in  India.  He 
later  came  to  America,  and  married  a  New 
England  girl.  He  has  two  homes,  one  in  Eng- 
land and  one  at  Brattleboro,  Vermont.  He  has 
written  many  poems  and  short  stories.  His 
Jungle  Books  are  excellent  stories  for  children. 


Theke  is  one  day  when  all  things  are  tired,  and  the  very 
smells,  as  they  drift  on  the  heavy  air,  are  old  and  used. 
One  cannot  explain  this,  but  it  feels  so.  Then  there  is  an- 
other day  —  to  the  eye  nothing  whatever  has  changed — • 
when  all  the  smells  are  new  and  delightful,  and  the  whisk- 
ers of  the  Jungle  People  quiver  to  their  roots,  and  the 
winter  hair  comes  away  from  their  sides  in  long,  draggled 


246  THE   CEANE   FOUBTH   KEADEK. 

locks.  Then,  perhaps,  a  little  rain  falls,  and  all  the  trees 
and  the  bushes  and  the  bamboos  and  the  mosses  and  the 
juicy-leaved  plants  wake  with  a  noise  of  growing  that  you 
can  almost  hear,  and  underneath  this  noise  runs,  day  and 
night,  a  deep  hum.  That  is  the  noise  of  the  spring  —  a 
vibrating  boom  which  is  neither  bees,  nor  falling  water, 
nor  the  wind  in  tree-tops,  but  the  purring  of  the  warm, 
happy  world.  ^^^^^^^  ^^^^^^^ 

[From  " The  Second  Jungle  Book."    Copyright  1895,  by  John  Brlsben  Walker.] 

Who  are  the  Jungle  People? 

Do  you  think  the  plants  wake?     Why? 

Tell  about  this  spring  day. 


THE    REDBIRD. 

When  the  summer  sky  is  a  tent  of  blue, 

And  rosy  June  is  the  regnant  queen, 
A  crimson  shuttle  flashes  through 

The  leafy  warp  of  the  forest  green ; 
And  the  thread  of  a  sweet  song  follows  him. 

In  mazy  tangles  of  shade  and  sun, 
And  stretches  away  in.  the  distance  dim  — 

And  the  bonny  bird  and  the  song  are  one. 

Andrew  Downing. 


So  blue  yon   winding   river   flows, 

It  seems  an  outlet  from  the  sky, 
Where,  waiting  till  the  west  wind  blows, 

The  freighted  clouds  at  anchor  lie. 

— Whit  tier. 


THE    CRANE    FOURTH    READER.  247 

LESSO^sT  LXXXII. 


stroked 

glo'ri  fled 

be  dewed' 

grieved 

thith'er 

Qe  les'tial  (chal) 

drooped 

re-u  nlt'ed 

gar'ment 

sori  ta  r^ 

ra^di  ant 

serv'ant 

A  CHILD'S   DREAM   OF  A  STAR. 

Charles  Dickens  (1812-1870)  lived  in  London.  He  began  to  do  news- 
paper work  when  only  a  boy,  and  from  that  began  to  write  sketches.  He 
has  written  many  fine  stories  and  some  pretty  poems.  His  Christmas  Stories 
will  always  find  readers.  His  best-known  novels  are:  David  Gopperfield, 
Pickwick  Papers,  Oliver  Twist,  and  Tale  of  Two  Cities. 

1.  There  was  once  a  cliild,  and  he  strolled  about  a  good 
deal,  and  thought  of  a  number  of  things.  He  had  a  sister, 
who  was  a  child  too,  and  his  constant  companion.  These 
two  used  to  wonder  all  day  long.  They  wondered  at  the 
beauty  of  the  flowers;  they  wondered  at  the  height  and 
blueness  of  the  sky;  they  wondered  at  the  depth  of  the 
bright  water;  they  wondered  at  the  goodness  and  power 
of  God  who  made  the  lovely  world. 

2.  They  used  to  say  to  one  another,  sometimes:  Sup- 
posing all  the  children  upon  earth  were  to  die,  would  the 
flowers,  and  the  water,  and  the  sky  be  sorry?  For,  said 
they,  the  buds  are  the  children  of  the  flowers,  and  the  little 
playful  streams  that  gambol  down  the  hillsides  are  the 
children  of  the  water ;  and  the  smallest  bright  specks  play- 
ing at  hide-and-seek  in  the  sky  all  night,  must  surely  be 
the  children  of  the  stars;  and  they  would  all  be  grieved 
to  see  their  playmates,  the  children  of  men,  no  more. 

3.  There  was  one  clear  shining  star  that  used  to  come 
out  in  the  sky  before  the  rest,  near  the  church-spire,  above 


248  THE   CKANE   FOUKTH   READER. 

the  graves.  It  was  larger  and  more  beautiful,  they 
thought,  than  all  the  others,  and  every  night  they  watched 
for  it,  standing  hand-in-hand  at  a  window.  Whoever 
saw  it  first  cried  out,  ^^I  see  the  star!'^  And  often  they 
cried  out  both  together,  knowing  so  well  when  it  would 
rise,  and  where.  So  they  grew  to  be  such  friends  with  it, 
that,  before  lying  down  in  their  beds,  they  always  looked 
out  once  again,  to  bid  it  good-night ;  and  when  they  were 
turning  around  to  sleep,  they  used  to  say,  "  God  bless  the 
star ! '' 

4.  But  while  she  was  still  very  young,  oh,  very,  very 
young,  the  sister  drooped,  and  came  to  be  so  very  weak 
that  she  could  no  longer  stand  in  the  window  at  night; 
and  then  the  child  looked  sadly  out  by  himself,  and  when 
he  saw  the  star,  turned  around  and  said  to  the  patient, 
pale  face  on  the  bed,  ^'  I  see  the  star ! "  and  then  a  smile 
would  come  upon  the  face,  and  a  little  weak  voice  used 
to  say,  "  God  bless  my  brother  and  the  star ! " 

5.  And  so  the  time  came,  all  too  soon!  when  the  child 
looked  out  alone,  and  when  there  was  no  face  on  the  bed ; 
and  when  there  was  a  little  grave  among  the  graves,  not 
there  before ;  and  when  the  star  made  long  rays  down 
toward  him,  as  he  saw  it  through  his  tears. 

6.  Now,  these  rays  were  so  bright,  and  they  seemed  to 
make  such  a  shining  way  from  earth  to  Heaven,  that  when 
the  child  went  to  his  solitary  bed  he  dreamed  about  the  star ; 
and  dreamed  that,  lying  where  he  was,  he  saw  a  train  of 
people  taken  up  that  sparkling  road  by  angels.  And  the 
star,  opening,  showed  him  a  great  world  of  light,  where 
many  more  such  angels  waited  to  receive  them. 

7.  All  these  angels,  who  were  waiting,  turned  their 


THE    CRANE   FOURTH   READER.  249 

beaming  eyes  upon  the  people  who  were  carried  up  into 
the  star ;  and  some  came  out  from  the  long  rows  in  which 
they  stood,  and  fell  upon  the  people's  necks,  and  kissed 
them  tenderly,  and  went  away  with  them  down  avenues 
of  light,  and  were  so  happy  in  their  company  that  lying 
in  his  bed  he  wept  for  joy. 

8.  But,  there  were  many  angels  who  did  not  go  with  them, 
and  among  them  one  he  knew.  The  patient  face  that  once 
had  lain  upon  the  bed  was  glorified  and  radiant,  but  his 
heart  found  out  his  sister  among  all  the  host. 

His  sister's  angel  lingered  near  the  entrance  of  the  star, 
and  said  to  the  leader  among  those  who  had  brought  the 
people  thither: 

"Is  my  brother  comeV 

And  he  said  "  No." 

9.  She  was  turning  hopefully  away,  when  the  child 
stretched  out  his  arms,  and  cried,  "  0,  sister,  I  am  here ! 
Take  me!"  and  then  she  turned  her  beaming  eyes  upon 
him,  and  it  was  night;  and  the  star  was  shining  in  the 
room,  making  long  rays  down  toward  him  as  he  saw  it 
through  his  tears. 

10.  From  that  hour  forth,  the  child  looked  out  upon  the 
star  as  on  the  home  he  was  to  go  to,  when  his  time  should 
come ;  and  he  thought  that  he  did  not  belong  to  the  earth 
alone,  but  to  the  star  too,  because  of  his  sister's  angel  gone 
before. 

There  was  a  baby  born  to  be  a  brother  to  the  child; 
and  while  he  was  so  little  that  he  never  yet  had  spoken  a 
word,  he  stretched  his  tiny  form  out  on  his  bed,  and  died. 

11.  Again  the  child  dreamed  of  the  open  star,  and  of  the 
company  of  angels,  and  the  train  of  people,  and  the  rows 


250  THE    CKANE    FOURTH   READER. 

of  angels  with  their  beaming  eyes  all  turned  upon  those 
people's  faces. 

Said  his  sister's  angel  to  the  leader: 

"  Is  my  brother  come  ? " 

And  he  said,  "  Not  that  one,  but  another." 

12.  As  the  child  beheld  his  brother's  angel  in  her  arms, 
he  cried,  "  0,  sister,  I  am  here !  Take  me ! "  And  she 
turned  and  smiled  upon  him ;  and  the  star  was  shining. 

He  grew  to  be  a  young  man,  and  was  busy  at  his  books 
when  an  old  servant  came  to  him  and  said : 

"  Thy  mother  is  no  more.  I  bring  her  blessing  on  her 
darling  son ! " 

13.  Again  at  night  he  saw  the  star,  and  all  that  former 
company.    Said  his  sister's  angel  to  the  leader : 

"  Is  my  brother  come  1 " 
And  he  said,  "  Thy  mother ! " 

14.  A  mighty  cry  of  joy  went  forth  through  all  the  star, 
because  the  mother  was  re-united  to  her  two  children. 
And  he  stretched  out  his  arms  and  cried,  "  0,  mother,  sis- 
ter and  brother,  I  am  here!  Take  me!"  And  they  an- 
swered him,  "  Not  yet ; "  and  the  star  was  shining. 

15.  He  grew  to  be  a  man,  whose  hair  was  turning  gray, 
and  he  was  sitting  in  his  chair  by  his  fireside,  heavy  with 
grief,  and  with  his  face  bedewed  with  tears,  when  the  star 
opened  once  again. 

Said  his  sister's  angel  to  the  leader:   "Is  my  brother 
come?" 
And  he  said,  "  Nay,  but  his  maiden  daughter." 

16.  And  the  man  who  had  been  the  child  saw  his 
daughter,  newly  lost  to  him,  a  celestial  creature  among 
those  three,  and  he  said,  '^My  daughter's  head  is  on  my 


THE    CEANE    FOUKTH    KEADEK.  261 

sister's  bosom,  and  her  arm  is  around  my  mother's  neck, 
and  at  her  feet  there  is  the  baby  of  old  time,  and  I  can 
bear  the  parting  from  her,  God  be  praised!''  And  the 
star  was  shining. 

17.  Thus  the  child  came  to  be  an  old  man,  and  his  once 
smooth  face  was  wrinkled,  and  his  steps  were  slow  and 
feeble,  and  his  back  was  bent.  And  one  night  as  he  lay 
upon  his  bed,  his  children  standing  around,  he  cried,  as 
he  had  cried  so  long  ago : 

"  I  see  the  star ! " 

They  whispered  one  another,  "  He  is  dying." 

18.  And  he  said,  ^^I  am.  My  age  is  falling  from  me 
like  a  garment,  and  I  move  toward  the  star  as  a  child. 
And  0,  my  Father,  now  I  thank  Thee  that  it  has  so  often 
opened,  to  receive  those  dear  ones  who  await  me!" 

And  the  star  was  shining ;  and  it  shines  upon  his  grave. 

Charles  Dickens. 

Why  do  you  think  the  child  was  disappointed  so  many  times? 
Tell  one  of  his  dreams. 


Tliese  our  actors. 
As  I  foretold  you,  were  all  spirits,  and 
Are  nijelted  into  air,  into  thin  air; 
And,  like  the  baseless  fabric  of  this  vision, 
The  cloud-capped  towers,  the  gorgeous  palaces. 
The  solemn  temples,  the  great  globe  itself. 
Yea,  all  which  it  inherit,   shall  dissolve. 
And  like  this  insubstantial  pageant  faded 
Leave  not  a  rack  behind.     We  are  such  stuff 
As  dreams  are  made  of,  and  our  little  life 
Is  rounded  with  a  sleep, 

—Shakespeare. 


252 


THE   CRANE   FOURTH   READER. 


dig^ni  ties 
scep^ter 


LESSON  LXXXIII. 

mar^tyr 
ba'by  hdbd 

PHILIP,   MY   KING. 


wreath 
vi€  to'ri  oils 


DINAH   MULOCK  CRAIK. 


Dinah  Mulock  Craik  (1826-1S37)  was  the 
daughter  of  an  English  clergymen.  She  is  known 
as  a  writer  of  fiction.  Her  story,  John  Halifax, 
Gentleman,  is  one  of  the  best  in  English  litera- 
ture. She  wrote  a  number  of  poems,  but  her 
prose  is  considered  finer  than  her  verse.  The 
poem  here  given,  although  short,  is  considered  one 
of  her  best. 

1.   Look  at  me  with  thy  large  brown 
eyes, 
Philip,  my  king ! 
For  round  thee  the  purple  shadow  lies 
Of  babyhood's  royal  dignities. 
Lay  on  my  neck  thy  tiny  hand 

With  Love's  invisible  scepter  laden; 
I  am  thine  Esther,  to  command 

Till  thou  shalt  find  thy  queen-handmaiden, 
Philip,  my  king ! 

2.   A  wreath,  not  of  gold,  but  palm.    One  day, 
Philip,  my  king ! 
Thou  too  must  tread,  as  we  trod,  a  way 
Thorny,  and  cruel,  and  cold,  and  gray; 
Eebels  within  thee  and  foes  without 
Will  snatch  at  thy  crown.    But  march  on,  glori- 
ous, 


THE    CRANE   FOURTH   READER. 

Martyr,  yet  monarch!  till  angels  shout, 

As  thou  sit'st  at  the  feet  of  God  victorious, 

"Philip,  my  king!" 

Dinah  Mulock  Craik. 

Explain  these  lines: 

"I  am  thine  Esther,  to  command;" 
"Rebels  within  thee  and  foes  without;" 
"With  Love's  invisible  scepter  laden." 


263 


LESSON^  LXXXIV. 

man^age  ment  math  e  mat^ies  sae^ri  fice  (fiz) 

en  er  get'ie  prom^i  nent  en  eoun^ter 

sur  Yey'mg  sit  u  action  mil'i  ta  ry- 

INCIDENTS  IN  THE  LIFE  OF  WASHINGTON. 

1.  Washington  was  born  in  Virginia,  in  1732.  His 
father  died  when  he  was  eleven  years  old,  leaving  quite  a 
large  property,  of  which  the  mother  was  to  have  the  man- 
agement till  the  five  children  came  of  age,  when  it  was 
to  be  divided  among  them. 

2.  The  mother  was  a  very  wise  and  energetic  woman; 
and  she  taught  her  children  to  be  prudent,  economical, 
and  industrious,  as  she  herself  was. 

3.  There  were  very  few  schools  in  the  South  at  that 
time;  hence,  Washington  had  not  the  means  of  getting 
so  good  an  education  as  most  boys  have  in  our  day. 

4.  His  book-learning  did  not  go  beyond  reading,  writ- 
ing, arithmetic,  bookkeeping,  and  surveying;  but  what- 
ever he  undertook  was  done  thoroughly;  and  some  of 
his  school-books  show  how  carefully  he  wrote,  and  how 
exact  he  was  in  keeping  his  accounts. 


254  THE    CKANE   FOURTH   EEADER. 

5.  He  was  fond  of  the  study  of  surveying,  and  made 
rapid  progress  in  mathematics  and  engineering,  exhibit- 
ing great  skill  in  making  and  drawing  plans.  He  en- 
joyed outdoor  sports,  and  took  every  sort  of  exercise  that 
would  increase  his  strength. 

6.  Once,  it  is  said,  he  threw  a  stone  across  the  Rap- 
pahannock river,  opposite  to  his  father's  house,  a  feat 
that  no  one  else  was  ever  known  to  perform.  One  of 
his  favorite  amusements  was  playing  soldier;  and,  as  he 
seemed  to  know  much  more  about  the  art  of  war  than  the 
other  boys,  they  always  made  him  captain. 

7.  He  was  very  fond  of  horses ;  and  one  day  he  under- 
took to  tame  a  fierce  animal  that  had  never  before  been 
ridden.  The  horse  was  a  valuable  one,  belonging  to  his 
mother.  Washington  nearly  broke  his  own  neck;  but 
he  did  not  give  up.  Finally,  the  proud  animal  burst  a 
blood-vessel,  and  fell  dead  beneath  his  young  rider. 

8.  The  mother  was  very  sorry  to  lose  so  valuable  a 
horse;  but  she  forgot  her  loss  in  the  pleasure  she  felt 
when  her  son  came  to  her  at  once  to  tell  her  what  had 
happened. 

9.  Love  of  truth  was  one  of  the  prominent  traits  of 
Washington's  character ;  and  if  he  said  a  thing,  he  meant 
it,  or  if  he  made  a  promise,  he  would  keep  it:  every  one 
of  his  schoolmates  was  sure  of  that. 

10.  His  oldest  brother,  Laurence,  a  captain  in  the  Eng- 
lish navy,  gave  such  glowing  accounts  of  his  adventures 
that  George  was  seized  with  a  longing  to  enter  the  navy 
and  go  to  sea.  Laurence  encouraged  this;  and  finally 
his  mother  very  reluctantly  gave  her  consent. 


THE    CRANE   FOURTH   READER.  255 

11.  A  situation  was  procured  for  George,  and  his 
clothes  were  packed  and  sent  on  board  the  ship;  but, 
at  the  last  moment,  his  mother,  feeling  that  he  must  not 
go,  begged  him  to  give  up  all  thought  of  it. 

12.  Washington  so  dearly  loved  her,  that  the  thought 
of  giving  her  pain  was  harder  to  bear  than  any  sacrifice 
that  he  could  make.  He  gave  up  his  longing  for  the  sea, 
and  stayed  at  honie. 

13.  When  he  was  sixteen,  an  English  nobleman,  who 
had  extensive  possessions  in  America,  was  visiting  at  a 
neighboring  mansion.  He  became  much  interested  in  our 
young  hero,  and  employed  him  to  survey  his  lands. 

14.  This  occupied  Washington  for  over  three  years, 
and  was  a  great  advantage  to  him  in  many  ways.  Not 
only  was  he  well  paid,  but  he  became  thoroughly  ac- 
quainted with  the  country  that  Braddock's  army  after- 
ward had  to  pass  through. 

15.  Washington  loved  to  encounter  hardships ;  and  his 
early  experience  in  surveying  was  probably  the  best  train- 
ing he  could  have,  to  fit  him  for  the  soldier's  life  that  he 
was  afterward  to  lead. 

16.  Washington  was  never  ashamed  to  work ;  and  when 
he  became  commander-in-chief,  he  was  willing  to  share 
the  lot  of  the  humblest  soldier,  if  necessary. 

17.  During  the  American  War,  a  corporal  was  giving 
orders  to  those  under  him,  about  a  heavy  beam  that  they 
were  trying  to  raise  to  the  top  of  some  military  works. 

18.  It  was  no  easy  task  to  raise  such  a  weight,  and  the 
voice  of  the  corporal  was  often  heard  shouting,  "Heave 
away!    There  it  goes!    Heave,  ho!" 


256  THE    CKANE   FOURTH   READER. 


I 


19.  A  stranger,  not  in  military  costume,  who  was  rid- 
ing by,  asked  the  man  why  he  did  not  render  a  little  aid. 
The  petty  officer,  astonished,  turned  round  with  all  the 
pomp  of  an  emperor,  and  said,  "  Sir,  I  am  a  corporal ! " 

20.  "You  are,  are  you!"  replied  the  other.  "I  was 
not  aware  of  that ; "  and  taking  off  his  hat,  he  bowed,  say- 
ing, "I  ask  your  pardon,  Mr.  Corporal." 

21.  Upon  this  he  dismounted,  and  pulled  till  the  sweat 
stood  in  drops  on  his  forehead.  Then,  turning  to  the  little 
great  man,  he  said: 

22.  "Mr.  Corporal,  when  you  have  another  job,  and 
have  not  men  enough,  send  for  your  Commander-in-chief, 
and  I  will  come  again  to  help  you."  The  corporal  was 
thunderstruck.    It  was  Washington ! 

23.  When  Washington  was  President  of  the  United 
States,  he  fulfilled  every  duty  of  his  position  with  the 
utmost  promptitude;  yet  he  was  never  in  a  hurry.  The 
secret  of  it  all  lay  in  his  punctuality. 

24.  When  he  fixed  a  time  for  any  business,  he  would 
never  wait  a  minute  beyond  the  hour  appointed.  If  he 
promised  to  meet  Congress  at  noon,  he  would  be  at  the 
door  before  the  clock  had  finished  striking  twelve. 

25.  In  his  own  household  he  was  just  as  punctual. 
When  at  home,  he  dined  at  four  o'clock  each  day ;  and  he 
never  permitted  the  carelessness  of  others  to  disturb  this 
arrangement :  the  dinner  was  served  on  the  moment,  with- 
out respect  to  tardy  guests. 

26.  One  day  a  man  who  had  two  very  fine  horses,  hear- 
ing that  Washington  wished  to  purchase  a  pair,  imme- 
diately called  upon  him,  hoping  to  make  an  advantageous 


THE   CKANE   FOURTH   READER.  257 

sale.    "  They  are  the  best  horses  in  the  country,"  said  the 
owner.    "  Would  you  like  to  see  them ! " 

27.  "Bring  them  to-morrow  morning  at  five  o'clock," 
replied  Washington.    "  If  I  like  them,  I  will  buy  them." 

Just  as  the  clock  was  striking  five,  he  came  out  of  his 
house  into  the  grounds  to  keep  his  appointment.  The 
horses  were  not  to  be  seen;  the  stranger  was  late. 

28.  At  a  quarter  past  fivey  however,  the  man  drove  into 
the  yard,  but  Washington  was  not  there.  The  chance  of 
selling  the  horses  was  lost;  for  Washington  could  not 
afterward  be  induced  to  deal  with  the  man  who  had  been 
a  quarter  of  an  hour  late. 

29.  When  Washington  was  not  in  public  service,  he 
lived  quietly  with  his  family  at  his  beautiful  home  on 
the  Potomac,  known  as  Mount  Vernon.  He  was  fond  of 
agriculture,  and  did  much  to  beautify  and  enrich  his 
lands.  Dearly  loved  by  all,  and  well-named  the  Father  of 
his  Country,  he  died  in  1799,  having  been  twice  elected 
President. 


Life  may  be  given  in  many  ways. 
And  loyalty  to  Truth  be  sealed 
As  bravely  in  the  closet  as  the  field. 

So  bountiful  is  Fate; 

But  then  to  stand  beside  her. 

When  craven  churls  deride  her, 
To  front  a  lie  in  arms  and  not  to  yield. 

This  shows,  methinks,  God's  plan 

And  measure  of  a  stalwart  man. 

— Lowell. 


li 


^^^  THE   CRA15^E  FOURTH  READER. 

LESSOR  LXXXV. 

na  tion  al'i  tie§  rep  re  §ent^  dis  po§ed' 

rev^o  lu'tion  'a  r^  m^flu  enqe  par^ents 

pas^sen  ger  di  vid^ed  re  freshed^ 

ilt^ter  ange  sep^a  rate  Mglit'ened 

THE   SLEIGH-RIDE. 

1.  "  Won't  you  give  me  a  ride  on  your  sled?  I  have  not 
had  a  ride  all  winter." 

2.  These  words  were  spoken  by  a  little  girl,  the  child 
of  very  poor  parents,  to  Joel  Barclay,  a  strong,  rough  boy, 
who  was  not  well  liked  by  his  schoolmates.  He  was  apt 
to  be  "cross  and  snappish,"  as  they  call  it. 

3.  When  she  said  to  Joe,  with  a  timid  voice,  "Won't 
you  give  me  a  ride  on  your  sled !"  he  was  at  first  disposed 
to  answer,  "  No !  what  business  have  you  to  have  a  ride  ? " 
Something  seemed  to  close  his  mouth  against  the  utterance 
of  those  words.    He  turned,  and  looked  her  full  in  the  face. 

4.  As  soon  as  his  eye  met  hers,  he  felt  kindly  toward 
her,  and  said,  "  Yes,  you  shall  have  a  ride,  and  a  good  long 
one.  Go  into  the  house  and  get  a  shawl  or  something  to 
keep  you  warm  while  on  the  sleigh." 

5.  She  did  so.  Wliile  she  was  in  the  house,  Joe  said  to 
himself,  "Am  I  not  a  fool  for  giving  this  girl  a  ride?  I 
shall  never  get  anything  for  it.  She  is  little  better  than  a 
poor-house  girl." 

6.  At  this  moment  Margaret  came  out,  with  so  happy  an 
expression  on  her  face  that  Joe  could  not  help  feeling  its 
influence ;  and,  without  owning  it  to  himself,  he  felt  that 
he  had  already  received  something  for  his  kindness  to  the 
poor  girl. 


II 


THE   CKANE   FOURTH   READER.  259 

7.  He  resolved  that  he  would  give  her  a  longer  ride  than 
he  had  intended.  So,  having  shown  her  how  to  place  her 
dress  aronnd  her,  and  how  to  hold  on,  he  set  out  for  the 
village,  deciding  to  take  her  through  the  whole  length  of 
the  street  and  home  again. 

8.  When  he  came  near  the  schoolhouse,  which  stood  a 
little  out  of  the  village,  he  saw  a  number  of  boys  divided 
into  two  parties  and  throwing  snowballs  at  one  another. 
The  two  parties  were  supposed  to  represent  the  British 
and  the  Americans.  Some  of  the  boys  had  just  been  read- 
ing an  account  of  the  Revolutionary  War. 

9.  When  they  saw  Joe  with  his  sled  and  passenger,  they 
seemed  to  forget  their  separate  nationalities,  and  the  fact 
that  they  were  at  war.  The  lines  were  at  once  broken,  and 
all  rushed  to  the  street,  and  began  to  direct  their  balls 
against  Joe. 

10.  Joe  stopped  for  a  moment,  and  said,  "  You  sit  still 
while  I  thrash  two  or  three  of  the  larger  boys."  But  see- 
ing that  she  looked  frightened,  he  started  on  a  run,  being 
sure  that  he  could  soon  get  beyond  the  reach  of  the  snow- 
balls. 

11.  Soon  after  he  had  gotten  beyond  their  reach,  a  gentle- 
man in  a  fine  sleigh  met  him.  He  had  witnessed  the  attack 
and  the  flight.  He  drew  up  his  horse,  and  said  with  a 
smile  to  Joe,  who  also  stopped,  "  They  were  too  many  for 
you." 

12.  "I  didn't  run  because  I  was  afraid  of  them,"  an- 
swered Joe.  "I  ran  because  she  wanted  me  to,  or  be- 
cause she  didn't  want  me  to  stop  and  thrash  them." 

13.  "Would  you  like  to  go  back  and  settle  with  them! " 

14.  "  I  don't  know  as  there's  anything  to  settle.    I  don't 


^60  THE   CRANE  FOURTH  READER. 


1 


suppose  they  meant  anything  but  fun.  They  didn't  throw 
at  her.  I  felt  angry  at  first,  but  I  don't  think  they  meant 
any  harm.'' 

15.  "  That  is  the  best  way  to  look  at  it,"  said  the  gentle- 
man, as  he  drove  on. 

16.  Joe  drew  Margaret  through  the  village,  and  then 
took  her  home.  After  he  had  left  her  he  felt  more  comfort- 
able than  he  had  for  some  time.  He  had  done  a  good  deed 
and  was  a  better  boy  for  it.  If  you  wish  to  feel  as  he  did, 
go  and  do  a  good  deed  to  some  one,  particularly  to  one  that 
needs  it. 


LESSON  LXXXVI. 

em  bammed"  e«r'li  est  Bi^bk 

seald^ing  mem^o  rj^  f  dol 

wor'shipi^ed  quiv'er  mg  saint'ed 

sabered  hariowed  nursed 

THE   OLD  ARM-CHAIR. 

Eliza  Cook  (1817-1889)  was  the  author  of  both  prose  and  poetry.  The 
selection  here  given  is  one  of  her  best-known  productions.  She  was  an 
English  woman. 

1.   I  LOVE  it !  I  love  it !  and  who  shall  dare 
To  chide  me  for  loving  that  old  arm-chair? 
I  've  treasured  it  long  as  a  sainted  prize ; 
I  've  bedewed  it  with  tears  and  embalm'd  it  with  sighs ; 
'T  is  bound  by  a  thousand  bands  to  my  heart ; 
Not  a  tie  will  break,  not  a  link  will  start. 
Would  you  learn  the  spell  I  —  A  mother  sat  there; 
And  a  sacred  thing  is  that  old  arm-chair. 


THE   CKANE   FOURTH   KEADEE.  261 

2.  In  childhood's  hour  I  lingered  near 
The  hallow'd  seat,  with  listening  ear ; 
And  gentle  words  that  mother  would  give, 
To  fit  me  to  die  and  teach  me  to  live : 
She  told  me  shame  would  never  betide 

With  truth  for  my  creed  and  God  for  my  guide ; 
She  taught  me  to  lisp  my  earliest  prayer 
As  I  knelt  beside  that  old  arm-chair. 

3.  I  sat  and  watched  her  many  a  day, 

When  her  eye  grew  dim,  and  her  locks  were  gray. 
And  I  almost  worshipped  her  when  she  smiled 
And  turn'd  from  her  Bible  to  bless  her  child. 
Years  rolPd  on,  but  the  last  one  sped ; 
My  idol  was  shattered,  my  earth-star  fled; 
I  learned  how  much  the  heart  can  bear. 
When  I  saw  her  die  in  that  old  arm-chair. 

4.  'Tis  past!  'tis  past!  but  I  gaze  on  it  now 
With  quivering  breath  and  throbbing  brow: 

'T  was  there  she  nursed  me,  'twas  there  she  died; 

And  memory  flows  with  lava  tide. 

Say  it  is  folly,  and  deem  me.  weak, 

While  the  scalding  drops  start  down  my  cheek ; 

But  I  love  it !  I  love  it !  and  cannot  tear 

My  soul  from  a  mother's  old  arm-chair. 

Eliza  Cook. 
Write  this  in  prose,  and  use  your  own  paragraphs,  in  the  next  recitation. 


262 


THE    CKANE   FOURTH   READER. 


ten^der  ly 
length'en 
hawnt 


lesso:n  lxxxvii. 

so^journ  er§ 
ro^§e  ate 
ver^dtir  oils 
frawd 


hearth 

Sep  tem'ber 

r/^yme§ 

flow^ery- 


William  Cullen  Bryant  (1794-1878)  was 
born  at  Cummington,  Massachusetts.  He  early 
showed  a  literary  power.  His  best-known  work, 
Thanatopsis,  was  published  when  its  author  was 
only  twenty- two  years  old.  In  1825  he  moved 
to  New  York  city,  and  was  for  fifty  years  in 
editorial  work.  His  poetry  treats  particularly 
of  nature,  and  he  is  sometimes  called  "  The  first 
poet  of  American  Nature." 


WILLIAM    CULLEN    BRYANT. 

THE  PLANTING  OF  THE  APPLE  TREE. 

1.  Come,  let  us  plant  the  apple  tree. 

Cleave  the  tough  greensward  with  the  spade ; 

Wide  let  its  hollow  bed  be  made ; 
There  gently  lay  the  roots,  and  there 
Sift  the  dark  mold  with  kindly  care, 

And  press  it  o'er  them  tenderly ; 
As  round  the  sleeping  infant's  feet 
We  softly  fold  the  cradle  sheet, 

So  plant  we  the  apple  tree. 

2.  What  plant  we  in  this  apple  tree  ? 

Buds,  which  the  breath  of  summer  days 
Shall  lengthen  into  leafy  sprays; 
Boughs  where  the  thrush,  with  crimson  breast. 
Shall  haunt  and  sing,  and  hide  her  nest ; 


THE    CRANE    FOURTH    READER, 

We  plant,  upon  the  sunny  lea, 
A  shadow  for  the  noontide  hour, 
A  shelter  from  the  summer  shower, 

When  we  plant  the  apple  tree. 

3.  What  plant  we  in  this  apple  tree? 

Sweets  for  a  hundred  flowery  springs. 

To  load  the  May  wind's  restless  wings, 
^^en,  from  the  orchard  row,  he  pours 
Its  fragrance  through  our  open  doors; 

A  world  of  blossoms  for  the  bee. 
Flowers  for  the  sick  girl's  silent  room, 
For  the  glad  infant  sprigs  of  bloom, 

We  plant  with  the  apple  tree. 

4.  Wliat  plant  we  in  this  apple  tree? 

Fruits  that  shall  swell  in  sunny  June, 

And  redden  in  the  August  noon. 
And  drop,  when  gentle  airs  come  by. 
That  fan  the  blue  September  sky. 

While  children  come,  with  cries  of  glee, 
And  seek  them  where  the  fragrant  grass 
Betrays  their  bed  to  those  who  pass. 

At  the  foot  of  the  apple  tree. 

5.  And  when,  above  this  apple  tree, 

The  winter  stars  are  quivering  bright, 
The  winds  go  howling  through  the  night. 
Girls,  whose  young  eyes  o'erflow  with  mirth. 
Shall  peel  its  fruit  by  cottage  hearth. 
And  guests  in  prouder  homes  shall  see. 


264  THE   CRANE   FOURTH   READER. 

Heaped  with  the  grape  of  Cintra's  vine, 
And  golden  orange  of  the  line, 
The  fruit  of  the  apple  tree. 

6.  The  fruitage  of  this  apple  tree, 

Winds  and  our  flag  of  stripe  and  star 

Shall  bear  to  coasts  that  lie  afar. 
Where  men  shall  wonder  at  the  view, 
And  ask  in  what  fair  groves  they  grew ; 

And  sojourners  beyond  the  sea 
Shall  think  of  childhood's  careless  day, 
And  long,  long  hours  of  summer  play, 

In  the  shade  of  the  apple  tree. 

7.  Each  year  shall  give  this  apple  tree 

A  broader  flush  of  roseate  bloom, 

A  deeper  maze  of  verdurous  gloom. 
And  loosen,  when  the  frost-clouds  lower. 
The  crisp  brown  leaves  in  thicker  shower. 

The  years  shall  come  and  pass,  but  we 
Shall  hear  no  longer,  where  we  lie, 
The  summer's  songs,  the  autumn's  sigh. 

In,  the  boughs  of  the  apple  tree. 

8.  And  time  shall  waste  this  apple  tree. 

Oh,  when  its  aged  branches  throw 
Thin  shadows  on  the  ground  below, 
Shall  fraud  and  force  and  iron  will 
Oppress  the  weak  and  helpless  still ! 
What  shall  the  tasks  of  mercy  be, 


THE   CRANE   FOURTH   READER.  265 

Amid  the  toils,  the  strifes,  the  tears 
Of  those  who  live  when  length  of  years 
Is  wasting  this  apple  tree? 

"  Who  planted  this  old  apple  tree? " 

The  children  of  that  distant  day 

Thus  to  some  aged  man  shall  say; 
And  gazing  on  its  mossy  stem. 
The  gray-haired  man  shall  answer  them: 

"A  poet  of  the  land  was  he, 
Born  in  the  rude  but  good  old  times; 
'Tis  said  he  made  some  quaint  old  rhymes 

On  planting  the  apple  tree.'^ 

William  Cullen  Bryant. 


Is  this  a  time  to  be  cloudy  and  sad, 

When  our  mother  Nature  laughs  around; 
When  even  the  deep  blue  heavens  look  glad, 

And  gladness  breathes  from  the  blossoming  ground? 

There  are  notes  of  joy  from  the  hang-bird  and  wren, 
And  the  gossip  of  swallows  through  all  the  sky; 

The  ground-squirrel  gayly  chirps  by  his  den. 
And  the  wilding  bee  hmns  merrily  by. 

The  clouds  are  at  play  in  the  azure  space, 

And  their  shadows  at  play  on  the  bright  green  vale, 

And  here  they  stretch  to  the  frolic  chase. 
And  there  they  roll  on  the  easy  gale. 

There  's  a  dance  of  leaves  in  that  aspen  bower, 
There  *s  a  titter  of  winds  in  that  beechen  tree. 

There  's  a  smile  on  the  fruit,  and  a  smile  on  the  flower. 
And  a  laugh  from  the  brook  that  runs  to  the  sea. 

Bryant. 


266  THE    CEANE    FOURTH    READER. 

LESSOR  LXXXVIIL 

THE    MISER. 

1.  Marley  was  dead,  to  begin  with.  There  is  no  doubt 
whatever  about  that. 

Old  Marley  was  as  dead  as  a  door-nail. 

Mind!  I  don't  mean  to  say  that  I  know,  of  my  own 
knowledge,  what  there  is  particularly  dead  about  a  door- 
nail. But  permit  me  to  repeat,  that  Marley  was  as  dead 
as  a  door-nail. 

2.  Scrooge  knew  he  was  dead  ?  Of  course  he  did.  How 
could  it  be  otherwise!  Scrooge  and  he  were  partners  for 
I  don't  know  how  many  years. 

3.  Scrooge  never  painted  out  Old  Marley's  name.  There 
it  stood  years  afterwards,  above  the  warehouse  door: 
Scrooge  and  Marley.  The  firm  was  known  as  Scrooge  and 
Marley.  Sometimes  people  new  to  the  business  called 
Scrooge  Scrooge,  and  sometimes  Marley,  but  he  answered 
to  both  names.    It  was  all  the  same  to  him. 

4.  Oh !  but  he  was  a  tight-fisted  hand  at  the  grindstone, 
Scrooge!  Hard  and  sharp  as  flint,  from  which  no  steel 
had  ever  struck  out  generous  fire.  The  cold  within  him 
froze  his  old  features,  nipped  his  pointed  nose,  shriveled 
his  cheek,  stiffened  his  gait;  made  his  eyes  red,  his  thin 
lips  blue;  and  spoke  out  shrewdly  in  his  grating  voice. 
A  frosty  rime  was  on  his  head,  and  on  his  eyebrows,  and 
his  wiry  chin.  He  carried  his  own  low  temperature  always 
about  with  him;  he  iced  his  office  in  the  dog-days;  and 
didn't  thaw  it  one  degree  at  Christmas. 

5.  No  warmth  could  warm,  no  wintry  weather  chill  him. 
The  heaviest  rain,  and  snow,  and  hail,  and  sleet,  could 


I 


THE    CKANE    FOURTH    READER. 


267 


boast  of  the  advantage  over  liim  in  only  one  respect.    Tliey 
often  "  came  down  "  handsomely,  and  Scrooge  never  did. 

6.  Nobody  ever  stopped  him  in  the  street  to  say,  with 
gladsome  looks,  "My  dear  Scrooge,  how  are  you?  Wlien 
will  you  come  to  see  me?"  No  beggars  implored  him  to 
bestow  a  trifle,  no  children  asked  him  what  it  was  o'clock, 
no  man  or  woman  ever  once  in  all  his  life  inquired  the  way 
to  such  and  such  a  place,  of  Scrooge.  Even  the  blind 
men's  dogs  appeared  to  know  him;  and  when  they  saw 
him  coming  on,  would  tug  their  owners  into  doorways  and 
up  courts ;  and  then  would  wag  their  tails  as  though  they 
said,  "  no  eye  at  all  is  better  than  an  evil  eye,  dark  master ! " 

7.  Once  upon  a  time  —  of  all  the  good  days  in  the  year, 
on  Christmas  Eve  —  old  Scrooge  sat  busy  in  his  counting- 
house.  It  was  cold,  bleak,  biting  weather ;  foggy  withal ; 
and  he  could  hear  the  people  in  the  court  outside  go  wheez- 
ing up  and  down,  beating  their  hands  upon  their  breasts, 
and  stamping  their  feet  upon  the  pavement  stones  to  warm 
them. 

8.  The  door  of  Scrooge's  counting-house  was  open,  that 
he  might  keep  his  eye  upon  his  clerk,  who  in  a  dismal  little 
cell  beyond,  a  sort  of  tank,  was  copying  letters.  Scrooge 
had  a  very  small  fire,  but  the  clerk's  fire  was  so  very  much 
smaller  that  it  looked  like  one  coal.  But  he  couldn't  re- 
plenish it,  for  Scrooge  kept  the  coal-box  in  his  own  room ; 
and  so  surely  as  the  clerk  came  in  with  the  shovel,  the 
master  predicted  that  it  would  be  necessary  for  them  to 
part.  Wherefore  the  clerk  put  on  his  white  comforter, 
and  tried  to  warm  himself  at  the  candle ;  in  which  effort, 
not  being  a  man  of  strong  imagination,  he  failed. 

9.  "A  merry  Christmas,  uncle !  God  save  you ! "  cried  a 


THE    CKANE   FOURTH   READER. 

cheerful  voice.  It  was  the  voice  of  Scrooge's  nephew,  who 
came  upon  him  so  quickly  that  this  was  the  first  intima- 
tion he  had  of  his  approach. 

"  Bah ! "  said  Scrooge,  "  Humbug ! '' 

10.  He  had  so  heated  himself  with  rapid  walking  in  the 
fog  and  frost,  this  nephew  of  Scrooge's,  that  he  was  all  in 
a  glow ;  his  face  was  ruddy  and  handsome ;  his  eyes  spark- 
led, and  his  breath  smoked  again. 

11.  ^'  Christmas  a  humbug,  uncle ! "  said  Scrooge's 
nephew.    "You  don't  mean  that,  I  am  sureV 

"  I  do,"  said  Scrooge.  "  Merry  Christmas !  What  right 
have  you  to  be  merry ! 

12.  '-  What 's  Christmas-time  to  you  but  a  time  for  pay- 
ing bills  without  money ;  a  time  for  finding  yourself  a  year 
older,  and  not  an  hour  richer ;  a  time  for  balancing  your 
books  and  having  every  item  in  'em  through  a  round  dozen 
of  months  presented  dead  against  you?  If  I  could  work 
my  will,"  said  Scrooge  indignantly,  "  every  idiot  who  goes 
about  with  '  Merry  Christmas '  on  his  lips,  should  be  boiled 
with  his  own  pudding,  and  buried  with  a  stake  of  holly 
through  his  heart.    He  should ! " 

13.  "  Uncle ! "  pleaded  the  nephew. 

"Nephew!"  returned  the  uncle,  sternly,  "keep  Christ- 
mas in  your  own  way,  and  let  me  keep  it  in  mine." 

"  Keep  it ! "  repeated  Scrooge's  nephew.  "  But  you  don't 
keep  it." 

14.  "  Let  me  leave  it  alone,  then,"  said  Scrooge.  "  Much 
good  may  it  do  you !    Much  good  it  has  ever  done  you ! " 

15.  "  There  are  many  things  from  which  I  might  have 
derived  good,  by  which  I  have  not  profited,  I  dare  say," 
returned  the  nephew,  "  Christmas  among  the  rest.    But  I 


THE    CEANE    FOUETH   EEADEE. 

am  sure  I  have  always  thought  of  Christmas-time  as  a  good 
time;  a  kind,  forgiving,  pleasant  time;  the  only  time  I 
know  of,  in  the  long  calendar  of  the  year,  when  men  and 
women  seem  by  one  consent  to  open  their  shut-up  hearts 
freely,  and  to  think  of  people  below  them  as  if  they  really 
were  fellow-passengers  to  the  grave,  and  not  another  race 
of  creatures  bound  on  other  journeys.  And  therefore, 
uncle  though  it  has  never  put  a  scrap  of  gold  or  silver  in 
my  pocket,  I  believe  that  it  has  done  me  good,  and  will  do 
me  good ;  and  I  say,  God  bless  it ! '' 

16.  The  clerk  in  the  tank  involuntarily  applauded.  Be- 
coming immediately  sensible  of  the  impropriety,  he  poked 
the  tire,  and  extinguished  the  last  frail  spark  forever. 

17.  '^  Let  me  hear  another  sound  from  you,^'  said  Scrooge, 
"  and  you  '11  keep  your  Christmas  by  losing  your  situation. 
You  're  quite  a  powerful  speaker,  sir,"  he  added,  turning 
to  his  nephew.    "  I  wonder  you  don't  go  into  Parliament." 

18.  ''Don't  be  angry,  uncle.  Come!  Dine  with  us  to- 
morrow." 

Scrooge  said  that  he  would  see  him  yes,  indeed 

he  did. 

''But  why?"  cried  Scrooge's  nephew.     "Why!" 
"  Wliy  did  you  get  married ! "  said  Scrooge. 
"Because  I  fell  in  love." 

19.  "  Because  you  fell  in  love ! "  growled  Scrooge,  as  if 
that  were  the  only  one  thing  in  the  world  more  ridiculous 
than  a  merry  Christmas.    "  Good  afternoon ! " 

20.  "Nay,  uncle,  but  you  never  came  to  see  me  before 
that  happened.  Wliy  give  it  as  a  reason  for  not  coming 
now?" 

21.  "  Good  afternoon,"  said  Scrooge. 


270 


THE   CRANE    FOURTH   READER. 


"  I  want  nothing  from  you ;  I  ask  nothing  of  you ;  why 
cannot  we  be  friends  ? '' 

22.  ''  Good  afternoon,''  said  Scrooge. 
"  I  am  sorry,  with  all  my  heart,  to  find  you  so  resolute. 

We  have  never  had  any  quarrel,  to  which  I  have  been  a 
party.  But  I  have  made  the  trial  in  homage  to  Christmas, 
and  I  '11  keep  my  Christmas  humor  to  the  last.  So  A  Merry 
Christmas,  uncle!" 

23.  "  Good  afternoon ! "  said  Scrooge. 
"And  A  Happy  New  Year ! " 
"  Good  afternoon,"  said  Scrooge. 
His  nephew  left  the  room  without  an  angry  word. 

Charles  Dickens. 

LESSON  LXXXIX. 

eon  tent'ed  1^  f  am'i  lie§  re  fleet'mg 

sce'ner:y'  •  ben'i  §on  deep'ened 

sol'i  tudeg  glis'fen  mg  grder 

em  bog'omed  mm'now^  fra'grange 

THE  MOUNTAIN    BROOK. 

1.  Away  up  among  the  mountains  a  tiny  spring  burst 
out.  It  trickled  along  almost  silently  at  first,  but  it  met 
another  and  another  little  spring,  and  rolling  together 
down  the  mountain-side,  they  tumbled  over  a  rock  and 
spread  into  a  dancing,  singing,  glistening  brook. 

2.  Stillness  and  shadow  were  around ;  as  yet  there  was 
only  a  little  nook  wherein  to  play ;  the  brook-spirit  longed 
for  more  sunlight  and  wider  scope.  The  breezes  whispered 
to  her  of  broad  lakes  embosomed  among  wooded  hills  — 
of  deep,  blue  rivers  flowing  through  wide  meadow-lands  — 
of  the  great  ocean  gathering  them  all  home  at  last  to  itself. 
Could  she  do  and  be  nothing  beyond  her  present  life  ?  The 
shadows  deepened,  and  she  sang  less  cheerily. 


THE   CKANE   FOtJETH   READER.  S71 

3.  A  bird  flew  down  to  the  brink  of  the  clear  water,  and 
then,  perching  on  a  green  bough  above,  trilled  forth  its 
happy  song.  Squirrels  and  rabbits  leaped  along  through 
the  rustling  grass  to  her  side,  and  went  away  refreshed 
and  glad.  The  merry  little  minnows  darted  to  and  fro  in 
her  shallow  basin,  happy  through  her,  for  even  their  life 
depended  on  the  home  and  supply  she  gave  them. 

4.  The  ferns  and  grasses  in  their  fresh  green,  gold- 
crowned  cowslips,  and  buttercups,  tiny  flowers  and  blue 
violets  bloomed  beside  her,  giving  fragrance  and  beauty 
in  return  for  her  benison  of  life  and  growth,  and  the  glad 
sunshine  threw  its  mantle  of  blessing  over  one  and  all.  It 
silvered  her  tiny  waves  more  and  more,  as,  flowing  on  con- 
tentedly, she  bathed  the  roots  of  a  young  cherry  tree. 

5.  And  then  the  brook  noticed  that  none  of  these  lived 
to  themselves  alone.  The  tree  gave  its  fruit  to  the  birds, 
and  afforded  quiet,  shaded  resting-places  for  their  nests. 
The  birds  brooded  and  fed  their  little  ones.  The  rabbits 
and  squirrels  were  busy  carrying  home  food  to  their  fam- 
ilies. The  elder,  which  bloomed  beside  her,  gave  its  blos- 
soms to  make  tea  for  a  sick  child,  as  she  learned  from  the 
talk  of  two  little  girls  who  came  for  them;  she  was  rest- 
less, they  said,  and  it  would  soothe  her  to  sleep.  All  were 
busy,  all  contented. 

6.  The  brook  had  learned  her  lesson.  She  rippled  gladly 
on,  bearing  health  and  strength  to  all  she  touched,  know- 
ing not  how  beautiful  was  the  melody  she  sang,  but  making 
her  way  more  and  more  out  of  the  shadows  and  into  the 
sunlight.  Another  and  another  brook  met  her  on  her 
course  through  rolling  meadows,  golden  in  sunshine. 

7.  Onward,  ever  onward,  active  and  cheery,  she  flowed. 


272  THE    CRANE   FOURTH   READER. 

bearing  blessings  wherever  she  went,  and  reflecting  the 
sunlight  of  heaven.  Far  back  amid  mountain  solitudes 
and  shady  woods  the  little  brook  could  be  traced;  but  a 
deep,  calm,  broad  river  rolled  through  meadow-lands  and 
between  shores  of  changing  scenery  —  forest,  field,  and 
hill,  and  happy  human  homes. 


LESSO:^  XC. 

peat  swamp  growth. 

to^tal  dep  6  §f  tion  work^a  h\e 

ORIGIN   OF  COAL. 

1.  Coal  is  undoubtedly  derived  from  the  vegetation  of 
the  numerous  swamps  that  existed  during  the  Carbonic 
Period.  The  proofs  of  this  statement  are  found  in  the 
coal-beds  and  in  the  strata  above  and  below.  In  the  coal 
itself,  the  microscope  reveals  decomposed  vegetable  tissue. 
Leaves  are  found  abundantly  in  the  shale  above  and  roots 
in  the  shale  below.  If  all  this  is  not  conclusive,  an  exam- 
ination of  the  swamps  and  bogs  of  to-day  will  reveal  in- 
cipient coal-beds.  The  peat  is  but  coal  in  its  first  stages. 
All  vegetable  matter  when  it  decomposes  under  water  in 
the  absence  of  air,  becomes  more  and  more  bituminized 
till  it  is  finally  coal.  If  it  decomposes  in  the  presence  of 
air,  nothing  but  vegetable  mold  results. 

2.  The  swamps  lasted  longer  in  some  places  than  in 
others,  and  hence  the  coal-beds  are  thicker  in  those  situa- 
tions. In  the  same  swamp,  also,  some  parts  had  a  thicker 
deposit  of  leaves  than  others,  and  therefore  thin  coal-beds 


THE   CRANE   FOITETH   READER. 


273 


may  thicken  in  portions  of  an  area  to  such  an  extent  that 
it  pays  to  work  the  beds  for  the  coal. 

3.  Careful  estimates  state  that  one-eighth  of  an  inch 
of  coal  represents  the  growth  of  swamp  vegetation  for  a 
century;  therefore  a  ten-inch  bed  of  coal  represents  the 
growth  of  swamp  vegetation  for  eight  thousand  years.  A 
bed  of  coal  forty  inches  thick  represents  a  swamp  growth 
and  deposition  of  peat  for  thirty-two  thousand  years; 
two  hundred  and  sixty  inches  represent  a  swamp  growth 
of  vegetation  for  over  two  hundred  thousand  years. 

Lyman  C.  Woosteb. 


LESSON  XCI. 


NEW  EVERY  MORNING. 

1.  Every  day  is  a  fresh  beginning, 

Every  morn  is  the  world  made  new. 
You  who  are  weary  of  sorrow  and  sinning, 
Here  is  a  beautiful  hope  for  you; 
A  hope  for  me  and  a  hope  for  you. 

2.  All  the  past  things  are  past  and  over. 

The  tasks  are  done  and  the  tears  are  shed. 
Yesterday's  errors  let  yesterday  cover; 

Yesterday's  wounds,  which  smarted  and  bled, 
Are  healed  with  the  healing  which  night  has  shed. 

3.  Yesterday  now  is  a  part  of  forever ; 

Bound  up  in  a  sheaf  which  God  holds  tight. 
With  glad  days,  and  sad  days,  and  bad  days,  which  never 


2U 


THE   CBANE   FOURTH   READER. 


Shall  visit  us  more  with  their  bloom  and  their  blight, 
Their  fullness  of  sunshine  or  sorrowful  night. 

4.  Let  them  go,  since  we  cannot  relive  them, 

Cannot  undo  and  cannot  atone ; 
God  in  His  mercy  receive,  forgive  them; 
Only  the  new  days  are  our  own  — 
To-day  is  ours  and  to-day  alone. 

5.  Here  are  the  skies,  all  burnished  brightly ; 

Here  is  the  spent  earth,  all  reborn; 
Here  are  the  tired  limbs,  springing  lightly 
To  face  the  sun  and  to  share  with  the  morn 
In  the  chrism  of  dew  and  the  cool  of  dawn. 

6.  Every  day  is  a  fresh  beginning; 

Listen,  my  soul,  to  the  glad  refrain. 
And  spite  of  old  sorrow  and  older  sinning. 
And  puzzles  forecasted  and  possible  pain. 
Take  heart  with  the  day  and  begin  again. 

Lois  Catesby. 

LESSOR  XCIL 

drear'i  est  *  €a  ressed^  pla^/^fel  low^ 

iin  rest^  loiv'Vi  est  mirth 

inVa  lid  light^en^  meas^ure  (mezh) 

FOUR    SUNBEAMS. 

1.  Four  sunbeams  came  to  the  earth  one  day, 
Shining  and  dancing  along  on  their  way, 

Eesolved  that  their  course  should  be  blest. 
"Let  us  try,''  they  all  whispered,  "some  kindness  to  do — 
Not  to  seek  our  own  pleasure  all  the  day  through  — 

Then  meet  in  the  eve  at  the  west." 


THE   CRANE   FOURTH   READER.  275 

2.  One  sunbeam  went  in  at  an  old  cottage  door, 

And  played  hide-and-seek  with  a  child  on  the  floor, 

Till  baby  laughed  loud  in  his  glee, 
And  chased  with  delight  his  strange  playmate  so  bright, 
The  little  hands  grasping  in  vain  for  the  light 

That  ever  before  them  would  flee. 

3.  One  sunbeam  crept  to  a  couch  where  an  invalid  lay, 
And  brought  him  a  gleam  of  a  sweet  summer  day  — 

Its  bird-song  and  beauty  and  bloom  — 
Till  pain  was  forgotten  and  weary  unrest; 
In  fancy  he  roamed  to  the  scenes  he  loved  best, 

Far  away  from  the  dim,  darkened  room. 

4.  One  stole  to  the  heart  of  a  flower  that  was  sad, 
And  loved  and  caressed  her  until  she  was  glad, 

And  lifted  her  white  face  again. 
For  love  brings  content  to  the  lowliest  lot. 
And  finds  something  sweet  in  the  dreariest  spot, 

And  lightens  all  labor  and  pain. 

5.  And  one,  where  a  little  blind  girl  sat  alone. 
Not  sharing  the  mirth  of  her  playfellows,  shone 

On  hands  that  were  folded  and  pale; 
And  it  kissed  the  poor  eyes  that  had  never  known 
sight. 
And  that  never  should  gaze  on  the  beautiful  light, 
Till  angels  should  lift  up  the  veil. 

6.  At  last,  when  the  shadows  of  evening  were  falling. 
And  the  sun,  their  great  father,  his  children  was  calling, 


276 


THE   CHANE  FOtTRTH  HEADER. 


Four  sunbeams  sped  into  the  west. 
All  said,  ''  We  have  found  that  in  seeking  the  pleasure 
Of  others  we  've  filled  to  the  full  our  own  measure." 

Then  softly  they  sank  to  their  rest. 


The  day  is  done;  and  slowly  from  the  scene 
The  stooping  sun  up-gathers  his  spent  shafts, 
And  puts  them  back  into  his  golden  quiver! 


LESSON^  XCIII. 


— Longfellow. 


mi  ero  seope 
de  ter^mmed 
in  diis^tri  ous 
ar  is  to  erat'ie 


spin^ner  ets 
rera  tive§ 
va  ri^e  ty 
for'ei^n  er 


€raze 
spl'der§ 
in^seets 
im^pu  denge 


THE  SPIDER   SPEAKS   FOR    HERSELF. 


OLIVE    THORNE    MILLER 


Harriet  Mann  Miller  (1831),  whose  pen- 
name  is  "  Olive  Thorne  Miller,"  was  born  at 
Auburn,  New  York.  She  wrote  many  books 
under  her  pen-name,  "Olive  Thorne,"  and  after 
her  marriage  to  Rev.  Watts  Tod  Miller,  she 
added  her  ovm  name,  Miller,  and  wrote  under  it. 
Her  books  ai'e  mostly  for  children,  and  are 
very  interesting.  She  has  written  much  on  na- 
ture studies.  Her  home  is  at  Brooklyn,  New 
York. 


1.  I  SUPPOSE  you  think  we  spiders 
are  nobodies,   because  we  go   about 
quietly  minding  our  own  business,  not  dressing  in  bright 


THE    CRANE    FOURTH    READER.  277 

colors  like  Mrs.  Butterfly,  nor  making  noise  enough  to 
craze  one,  like  Mr.  Humblebee.  But  I  can  tell  you  tlie 
spider  family  is  older  than  the  human  family,  who  take 
on  so  many  airs,  looking  into  our  secrets  with  that  rude 
little  microscope  of  theirs. 

2.  However,  we're  an  honest  and  industrious  family, 
and  there 's  nothing  about  us  to  be  ashamed  of.  In  fact, 
I  could  show  you  some  strange  things,  if  your  eyes  were 
not  too  coarse  to  see  them.  There  are  my  spinnerets, 
which  spin  out  a  beautiful  silk  rope  of  more  than  four 
thousand  threads  as  fast  as  I  want  it. 

3.  Wouldn't  you  children  think  it  fine  if  you  could  make 
a  string  in  a  minute  any  time  you  wanted  it  ?  Then  you ' ve 
never  seen  my  combs;  you  can't  —  they're  too  small.  I 
have  one  on  each  foot,  and  I  use  them  to  keep  myself,  as 
well  as  my  web,  free  from  dust.  I  don't  like  to  brag,  but 
I  really  think  you  would  admire  my  eyes. 

4.  I  have  eight  of  them.  I  don't  see  how  you  can  get 
along  with  two;  though,  to  be  sure,  you  can  turn  yours 
about.  They  are  placed  in  a  square  in  my  forehead,  for  I 
belong  to  that  branch  of  the  insect  family  who  live  under- 
ground and  have  their  eyes  close  together  on  their  fore- 
heads. Those  who  live  in  the  air  have  them  more  sepa- 
rated, so  as  to  see  all  around. 

5.  Then  I  would  really  like  to  show  you  my  babies ;  but, 
alas !  they  're  much  too  small.  I  carry  them  about  with  me 
all  the  time,  till  they  're  big  enough  to  take  care  of  them- 
selves. They  ride  on  my  back  and  head,  and  in  fact  there 
are  so  many  that  they  nearly  cover  me  up. 

6.  Perhaps  the  most  interesting  thing  about  us  is  the 
variety  of  our  houses.    I  build  my  house  in  your  garden 


278  THE    CRANE   FOURTH   READER. 


1 


or  bushes,  and  if  it  were  not  for  the  impudence  of  your 
gardener,  and  a  destructive  weapon  called  a  broom,  you 
would  see  it  oftener  than  you  do. 

7.  It  does  not  become  me  to  brag,  but  if  you  know  of  any 
home  more  graceful  or  more  elegant  than  mine,  I  'd  like  to 
know  what  it  is.  Some  of  my  family  live  in  a  sort  of  tent 
made  of  a  leaf,  lined  with  silk,  which  makes  a  pretty  house, 
though  rather  an  airy  one. 

8.  One  branch  of  the  family  builds  a  house,  or  rather 
a  cradle,  shaped  like  a  tiny  bell,  and  hung  to  a  leaf  or 
branch,  where  it  rocks  with  every  wind.  It  is  not  very 
large,  is  snow  white,  and  very  long.  But  after  it  is  fin- 
ished and  filled  with  eggs,  forty  or  fifty  of  them,  the  care- 
ful mother  closes  it  up,  and  covers  the  outside  with  mud, 
because,  you  must  know,  there  are  many  insects  who  will 
eat  every  baby  spider  they  see. 

9.  Others  build  hanging  houses.  Some  are  three  or  four 
inches  long,  and  made  of  white  silk ;  others  are  made  of 
empty  seed-pods,  fastened  together  and  lined  with  silk, 
for  wherever  a  spider  lives,  she  must  have  silk  curtains 
to  her  house. 

10.  One  of  my  relatives,  who  lives  in  the  West  Indies  — 
a  splendid  fellow,  with  body  an  inch  and  a  half  long,  and 
bushes  of  hair  on  his  legs  —  fastens  his  house  to  a  plant, 
and  it  looks  like  a  silk  ball.    It  is  very  aristocratic  and  nice. 

11.  But  I  think  the  strangest  house  is  made  by  the  Trap- 
door Spider,  another  foreigner,  who  lives  in  Australia. 
She  is  quite  large,  more  than  an  inch  long,  and  she  digs 
a  deep  hole  in  the  ground,  which,  of  course,  she  lines 
with  heavy  silk  hangings.  Then  at  the  top  she  makes  a 
door,  so  strange  that  she  takes  her  name  from  it. 


THE    CKANE    FOUETH    READER.  279 

12.  It  is  of  silk,  made  hard  with  some  kind  of  gum. 
The  outside  is  covered  with  dirt,  bits  of  bark,  etc.,  just 
like  the  ground  around  it,  so  that  when  it  is  shut  it  can- 
not be  seen.  The  whole  is  hung  with  a  hinge,  like  any  door. 
What  do  you  think  of  that!  She  often  sits  in  her  door  to 
enjoy  the  air,  but  if  anyone  comes  near,  she  shuts  the  door 
and  holds  it  fast. 

13.  Some  of  my  family  have  a  strange  wish  to  live  near 
the  water.  One  of  them  is  called  the  Raft  Spider,  because 
he  makes  a  raft  of  leaves  and  sticks,  held  together  with 
silk.  On  this  he  sails  around,  eating  such  food  as  he  can 
find  on  the  water.    He  can  run  on  the  water,  too,  easily. 

14.  The  strangest  one,  who  builds  a  nice  house  under 
water,  and  spends  all  her  time  there,  is  called  the  Water 
Spider.  Now,  you  know  that  spiders,  as  well  as  you,  must 
have  air  to  breathe,  and  one  would  think  they  must  live 
on  land ;  but  this  spider  is  so  determined  to  live  away  from 
her  relatives  that  she  builds  a  beautiful  house  of  silk,  the 
shape  and  size  of  a  thimble,  with  the  open  side  down,  and 
fills  it  with  air  herself. 

15.  I'll  tell  you  how.  Having  finished  the  house,  she 
goes  to  the  surface,  sticks  one  end  of  her  body  up  into  the 
air,  then  gives  a  jerk,  and  really  carries  a  tiny  bubble  of 
air  under  the  water.  It  is  held  partly  by  the  long  hairs  on 
the  body,  and  partly  by  the  hind  legs.  Wlien  she  gets  to 
the  house  she  turns  around,  and  lets  go  the  bubble.  Of 
course  it  goes  to  the  top  of  the  little  thimble,  and  there  it 
stays. 

16.  In  this  strange  way,  bubble  by  bubblt^,  air  enough 
is  carried  in  to  fill  the  house.  And  there  she  lives,  bring- 
ing her  dinner  there  to  eat,  and  making  a  nursery  in  one 


280  THE    CRANE    FOURTH   READER. 

corner  for  the  babies,  who  live  at  home  till  big  enough  to 
build  thimble  houses  for  themselves. 

•17.  There  are  many  more  curious  things  I  could  tell 
you  of  my  family,  but  I  'm  afraid  you  're  tired  already. 

Olive  Thokne  Milleb. 
Describe  the  spider. 

Tell  the  things  a  spider  can  do. 

Do  you  know  a  story  in  mythology  which  tells  the  adventures  of  the 
spider  ? 

LESSON  XCIY. 

en^e  m^  mes^sen  ger  €om  mand^ed 

rei^n  fi^nal  ly  plun'der  ing 

re  gist^ange  sliig^gish  trib^ute 

THE   HERO   OF   BLACKWATER. 

1.  There  was  once  a  king  of  England  called  "The 
Unready,"  because  he  was  never  ready  to  meet  his  coun- 
try's enemies  and  drive  them  away.  The  greatest  enemy 
that  England  had  during  this  king's  reign  was  the  Dane. 

2.  The  Danes  had  a  fine  fleet  of  vessels  called  the  "  Long 
Serpent ''  ships,  in  which  they  cruised  about,  fearlessly  at- 
tacking and  plundering  the  people  on  the  shores  of  the 
North  and  Baltic  seas. 

3.  The  unready  English  king  had  allowed  his  navy  to 
fall  into  decay.  So  whenever  the  Danes  in  their  dreaded 
"  Long  Serpent "  ships  appeared  off  the  English  coast,  the 
only  thing  the  king  could  do  was  to  pay  them  whatever  sum 
of  money  they  might  demand,  in  order  to  get  rid  of  them. 

4.  Among  the  king's  subjects  was  the  Earl  of  Essex,  who 
was  a  loyal  servant  of  the  unready  ruler.  He  was  not  like 
the  king,  however, —  ready  to  tax  the  people  to  pay  tribute 


THE  CRANE  FOURTH  READER.  281 

to  the  Danish  robbers.    So  he  determined  to  raise  an  army 
to  defend  his  country  against  them. 

5.  One  year  the  Danes  sailed  out  with  ninety-three  of 
their  terrible  "Long  Serpents."  They  met  no  resistance 
at  any  of  the  ports  until  they  came  to  the  mouth  of  the 
Blackwater  river.  They  passed  up  this  river  as  far  as 
the  tide  would  carry  them. 

6.  Here  they  landed,  and  plundered  the  countryside. 
When  they  returned  to  their  ships  the  tide  was  out,  so  they 
could  not  sail  away.  And  the  farther  bank  of  the  river  was 
alive  with  warriors  ready  to  fight  for  the  honor  of  Eng- 
land. 

7.  The  chief  of  the  Danes  sent  a  messenger  to  the  Earl 
of  Essex,  who  commanded  these  forces,  demanding  gold. 
The  nobleman  sent  back  the  answer:  "Here  stands  an 
English  earl  who  will  defend  his  earldom  and  the  lands  of 
his  king.'' 

8.  In  the  long  and  bloody  battle  that  followed,  the  num- 
bers were  unequal;  the  English  were  finally  overcome, 
and  the  noble  earl  was  killed.  His  few  followers,  fought 
bravely  on  until  compelled  to  flee  under  shelter  of  the 
night. 

9.  The  sluggish  king  then  gave  the  Danes  ten  thousand 
pounds  of  silver  to  leave  the  country.  The  king  saved  his 
own  life  and  the  brave  earl  lost  his ;  but  men  will  always 
honor  the  hero  who  died  and  despise  the  unready  ruler 
who  lived  a  coward,  and  a  traitor  to  his  kingly  trust. 

Where  do  the  Danes  live? 

What  weapons  did  warriors  use  at  the  time  of  this  story? 

What  is  meant  by  "paying  tribute"? 

— Adapted. 


282  THE   CEANE   FOUKTH   READER. 

LESso:Nr  xcv. 

ree  ol  lee'tion  biick^et  re  mgved^ 

m  tru'sive  ly  Jii'pi  ter  nee'tar  (ter) 

plan  taction  ex^qm  §ite  em'blem 

sit  u  action  in^fan  Qf  ar'dent 

THE  OLD  OAKEN    BUCKET. 

1.  How  DEAR  to  my  heart  are  the  scenes  of  my  childhood, 

When  fond  recollection  presents  them  to  view! 
The  orchard,  the  meadow,  the  deep-tangled  wildwood. 

And  every  loved  spot  which  my  infancy  knew ; 
The  wide-spreading  pond,  and  the  mill  that  stood  by  it ; 

The  bridge,  and  the  rock  where  the  cataract  fell ; 
The  cot  of  my  father,  the  dairy-house  nigh  it. 

And  e'en  the  rude  bucket  which  hung  in  the  well ; 
The  old  oaken  bucket,  the  iron-bound  bucket. 

The  moss-covered  bucket  which  hung  in  the  well. 

2.  That  moss-covered  vessel  I  hailed  as  a  treasure; 

For  often  at  noon  when  returned  from  the  field, 
I  found  it  the  source  of  an  exquisite  pleasure. 

The  sweetest  and  purest  that  nature  can  yield. 
How  ardent  I  seized  it,  with  hands  that  were  glowing, 

And  quick  to  the  white-pebbled  bottom  it  fell; 
Then  soon,  with  the  emblem  of  truth  overflowing. 

And  dripping  with  coolness,  it  rose  from  the  well ; 
The  old  oaken  bucket,  the  iron-bound  bucket. 

The  moss-covered  bucket  that  rose  from  the  well. 


THE    CKANE   FOUKTH   KEADEK. 


283 


3.  How  sweet  from  the  green,  mossy  brim  to  receive  it, 

As  poised  on  the  curb,  it  inclined  to  my  lips ! 
Not  a  full  blushing  goblet  could  tempt  me  to  leave  it, 

Though  filled  with  the  nectar  that  Jupiter  sips. 
And  now,  far  removed  from  that  loved  situation, 

The  tear  of  regret  will  intrusively  swell. 
As  fancy  reverts  to  my  father's  plantation, 

.And  sighs  for  the  bucket  that  hangs  in  the  well ; 
The  old  oaken  bucket,  the  iron-bound  bucket. 

The  moss-covered  bucket  that  hangs  in  the  well. 

Samuel  Woodworth. 


LESSON   XCVI. 

m  hab^it  ants 

de  vo'tion 

searred 

eap^tive 

Qiv  il  i  za'tion 

re  lieve^ 

eJiYis  ti  an'i  ty 

prig^on  er§ 

seized 

Gen^e  vieve 

pa^tron 

pro  tee^tion 

SAINT  GENEVIEVE. 

1.  Many  hundred  years  ago  the  people  living  in  the 
country  now  called  France  had  a  hard  time.  They  were 
good  people,  who  believed  in  Christianity  and  who  were 
highly  civilized. 

2.  Their  country  was  called  Gaul,  and  they  were  under 
the  rule  of  the  Roman  empire.  East  and  north  of  them 
were  many  savage  tribes,  who  kept  the  Gauls  in  constant 
fear. 

3.  These  cruel  people  would  come  into  the  country  in 
great  bands.    They  would  destroy  the  crops,  burn  the  vil- 


^84  THE    CRANE   FOURTH   READER. 

lages,  drive  off  the  cattle,  and  make  captive  slaves  of  tlie 
inhabitants.  Only  the  walled  cities  could  withstand  their 
attacks. 

4.  During  this  state  of  affairs  a  peasant  girl  was  born 
in  a  village  two  miles  from  a  larger  village,  now  grown 
into  the  great  city  of  Paris.    She  was  called  Genevieve. 

5.  Genevieve  was  a  very  good  little  girl.  Wlien  she  was 
seven  years  old  two  noted  bishops  passed  through  the 
village.  All  the  villagers  went  to  the  church  to  see  them 
and  to  receive  their  blessing.  Little  Genevieve,  who  was 
among  the  number,  so  attracted  one  of  the  bishops  by  her 
childish  devotion  that  he  gave  her  a  copper  medal  with  a 
cross  engraved  upon  it. 

6.  After  this,  little  Genevieve  thought  herself  chosen 
for  the  service  of  heaven.  As  she  grew  up  she  lived  a  sim- 
ple, pure,  unselfish  life. 

7.  In  the  year  451  the  whole  of  Gaul  was  terrified  by  the 
coming  of  Attila,  chief  of  the  Huns,  and  his  host  of  savage 
men,  who  scarred  their  own  features  to  make  them  more 
frightful  to  their  enemies.  The  villagers  fled  from  them 
as  they  approached,  and  they  marched  without  hindrance 
toward  Paris. 

8.  When  the  news  of  Attila's  coming  reached  Genevieve's 
village,  the  people  prepared  to  flee,  but  Genevieve  stood  on 
the  only  bridge  across  the  Seine  river  and  urged  them  to 
pray  for  protection  and  to  stay  and  defend  their  homes. 

9.  At  length  they  grew  ashamed  of  themselves,  and  re- 
turned to  their  houses.  In  a  few  days  they  heard  that  a 
Roman  general  had  defeated  Attila  and  driven  him  out  of 
the  country. 

10.  Not  many  years  after  this,  the  Franks  came  down 


THE   CRANE   FOITETH   READEB.  285 

into  Gaul  and  besieged  Paris.  The  people,  shut  up  in  the 
city,  were  almost  starved,  and  so  discouraged  that  they 
wanted  to  give  up  to  their  foes.  But  again  Genevieve's 
courage  saved  them.  Alone  in  a  little  boat  she  slipped 
down  the  river  beyond  the  enemy's  camps. 

11.  Then  she  went  to  different  cities  and  secured  aid  to 
relieve  Paris.  But  she  could  not  drive  the  Franks  out  of 
Gaul.  They  had  decided  to  settle  down  and  live  in  the 
country.  They  quit  destroying  villages,  but  they  despised 
all  the  Gauls  as  cowards. 

12.  They  seized  upon  Paris  and  put  its  chief  citizens 
into  prison.  Once  more  Genevieve  risked  her  life  for  her 
countrymen.  In  the  dress  of  a  peasant  girl  she  went  to 
the  leader  of  the  Franks  to  plead  for  the  lives  of  her  im- 
prisoned people. 

13.  The  leader  was  so  awed  by  her  bravery  that  he 
granted  all  she  asked  for, —  the  safety  of  the  prisoners  and 
mercy  to  the  Gauls.  Before  Genevieve  died  she  saw  the 
king  of  the  Franks  marry  a  Christian  woman  and  become 
a  Christian  himself. 

14.  The  people  of  Paris  after  her  death  remembered  all 
her  goodness  and  courage,  and  ever  since  that  time  have 
considered  Saint  Genevieve  the  patron  saint  of  their  city. 

Who  were  the  Franks? 

What  is  a  peasant? 

What  is  a  medal  for? 

Have  you  read  of  any  other  girl  who  did  as  Genevieve  did? 

— Adapted. 


286  THE   CRAKE   FOtJETH   READER. 

LESSON  XCVII. 

lat^i  tude  s^ria  bk§  post^hu  moiis 

weath'er  v6rie^  dis'mal 

FROZEN   WORDS. 

1.  There  are  no  books  whicli  I  more  deliglit  in  than  in 
travels,  especially  those  that  describe  remote  countries,  and 
give  the  writer  an  opportunity  of  showing  his  parts  without 
incurring  any  danger  of  being  examined  or  contradicted. 
Among  all  the  authors  of  this  kind,  our  renowned  country- 
man. Sir  John  Mandeville,  has  distinguished  himself  by  the 
copiousness  of  his  invention  and  the  greatness  of  his  genius. 

2.  The  present  paper  I  intend  to  fill  with  an  extract  of 
Sir  John's  journal,  in  which  that  learned  and  worthy  knight 
gives  an  account  of  the  freezing  and  thawing  of  several 
short  speeches  which  he  made  in  the  territories  of  Nova 
Zembla.  The  relation  put  into  modern  language  is  as 
'follows : 

3.  "  We  were  separated  by  a  storm  in  the  latitude  of  73, 
insomuch  that  only  the  ship  which  I  was  in,  with  a  Dutch 
and  a  French  vessel,  got  safe  into  a  creek  of  Nova  Zembla. 
We  landed,  in  order,  to  refit  our  vessels,  and  store  ourselves 
with  provisions.  The  crew  of  each  vessel  made  themselves 
a  cabin  of  turf  and  wood,  at  some  distance  from  each  other, 
to  fence  themselves  against  the  inclemencies  of  the  weather, 
which  was  severe  beyond  imagination. 

4.  "  We  soon  observed,  that  in  talking  to  one  another  we 
lost  several  of  our  words,  and  could  not  hear  one  another 
at  above  two  yards'  distance,  and  that  too  when  we  sat  very 
near  the  fire.     After  much  perplexity,  I  found  that  our 


THE    CRANE    FOURTH   READER.  287 

words  froze  in  the  air  before  they  could  reach  the  ears  of 
the  person  to  whom  they  were  spoken. 

5.  "  I  was  soon  confirmed  in  this  conjecture,  when,  upon 
the  increase  of  the  cold,  the  whole  company  grew  dumb,  or 
rather  deaf ;  for  every  man  was  sensible,  as  we  afterwards 
found,  that  he  spoke  as  well  as  ever;  but  the  sounds  no 
sooner  took  air  than  they  were  condensed  and  lost.  It  was 
now  a  miserable  spectacle  to  see  us  nodding  and  gaping  at 
one  another,  every  man  talking,  and  no  man  heard.  One 
might  observe  a  seaman  that  could  hail  a  ship  at  a  league 
distance,  beckoning  with  his  hands,  straining  his  lungs, 
and  tearing  his  throat,  but  all  in  vain. 

6.  "  We  continued  here  three  weeks  in  this  dismal  plight. 
At  length,  upon  a  turn  of  wind,  the  air  about  us  began  to 
thaw.  Our  cabin  was  immediately  filled  with  a  dry  clat- 
tering sound,  which  I  afterwards  found  to  be  the  crackling 
of  consonants  that  broke  above  our  heads,  and  were  often 
mixed  with  a  gentle  hissing,  which  I  imputed  to  the  letter 
S,  that  occurs  so  frequently  in  the  English  tongue.  I  soon 
after  felt  a  breeze  of  whispers  rushing  by  my  ear;  for 
those,  being  of  a  soft  and  gentle  substance,  immediately 
liquefied  in  the  warm  wind  that  blew  across  our  cabin. 

7.  "  These  were  soon  followed  by  syllables  and  short 
words,  and  at  length  by  entire  sentences,  that  melted  sooner 
or  later,  as  they  were  more  or  less  congealed ;  so  that  we 
now  heard  everything  that  had  been  spoken  during  the 
whole  three  weeks  that  we  had  been  silent,  if  I  may  use 
that  expression. 

8.  "  It  was  now  very  early  in  the  morning,  and  yet,  to  my 
surprise,  I  heard  somebody  say,  '  Sir  John,  it  is  midnight, 
and  time  for  the  ship's  crew  to  go  to  bed.'    This  I  knew  to 


288  THE   CRANE   FOURTH   READER. 


1 


be  the  pilot's  voice,  and,  upon  recollecting  myself,  I  con- 
cluded that  he  had  spoken  these  words  to  me  some  days 
before,  though  I  could  not  hear  them  before  the  present 
thaw.  My  reader  will  easily  imagine  how  the  whole  crew 
was  amazed  to  hear  every  man  talking,  and  see  no  man 
opening  his  mouth. 

9.  ''  In  the  midst  of  this  great  surprise  we  were  all  in, 
we  heard  a  volley  of  oaths,  lasting  for  a  long  while,  and 
uttered  in  a  very  hoarse  voice,  which  I  knew  belonged  to 
the  boatswain,  who  was  a  very  choleric  fellow,  and  had 
taken  his  opportunity  of  swearing  at  me  when  he  thought  I 
could  not  hear  him ;  for  I  had  several  times  given  him  the 
strappado  on  that  account,  as  I  did  not  fail  to  repeat  it  for 
these  his  pious  soliloquies  when  I  got  him  on  shipboard. 

10.  "  When  this  confusion  of  voices  was  pretty  well  over, 
though  I  was  afraid  to  offer  at  speaking,  as  fearing  I  should 
not  be  heard,  I  proposed  a  visit  to  the  Dutch  cabin,  which 
lay  about  a  mile  farther  up  the  country.  My  crew  were 
extremely  rejoiced  to  find  they  had  again  recovered  their 
hearing,  though  every  man  uttered  his  voice  with  the  same 
apprehensions  that  I  had  done. 

11.  '^At  about  half  a  mile's  distance  from  our  cabin,  we 
heard  the  groanings  of  a  bear,  which  at  first  startled  us ; 
but  upon  inquiry  we  were  informed  by  some  of  our  com- 
pany that  he  was  dead,  and  now  lay  in  salt,  having  been 
killed  upon  that  very  spot  about  a  fortnight  before  in  the 
time  of  the  frost.  Not  far  from  the  same  place  we  were 
likewise  entertained  with  some  posthumous  snarls  and 
barkings  of  a  fox. 

12.  "  We  at  length  arrived  at  the  little  Dutch  settlement, 
and,  upon  entering  the  room,  found  it  filled  with  sighs  that 


THE    CRANE    FOURTH   READER. 


289 


smelt  of  brandy,  and  several  other  unsavory  sounds  that 
were  altogether  inarticulate.  My  valet  fell  into  so  great  a 
rage  at  what  he  heard,  that  he  drew  his  sword;  but  not 
knowing  where  to  lay  the  blame,  he  put  it  up  again.  We 
were  stunned  with  these  confused  noises,  but  did  not  hear 
a  single  word  till  about  half  an  hour  after;  which  I  as- 
cribed to  the  harsh  and  obdurate  sounds  of  that  language, 
which  wanted  more  time  than  ours  to  melt  and  become 
audible. 

13.  "After  having  met  with  a  very  hearty  welcome,  we 
went  to  the  French  cabin,  who,  to  make  amends  for  their 
three  weeks'  silence,  were  talking  and  disputing  with 
greater  rapidity  and  confusion  than  ever  I  heard  in  an 
assembly  even  of  that  nation.  Their  language,  as  I  found, 
upon  the  first  giving  of  the  weather,  fell  asunder  and  dis- 
solved. 

14.  "  I  was  here  convinced  of  an  error  into  which  I  had 
before  fallen;  for  I  fancied  that  for  the  freezing  of  the 
sound  it  was  necessary  for  it  to  be  wrapped  up,  and,  as  it 
were,  preserved  in  breath ;  but  I  found  my  mistake  when 
I  heard  the  sound  of  a  kit  playing  a  minuet  over  our  heads. 
I  asked  the  occasion  of  it ;  upon  which  one  of  the  company 
told  me  that  it  would  play  there  above  a  week  longer  if  the 
thaw  continued.  '  For,'  says  he, '  finding  ourselves  bereft  of 
speech,  we  prevailed  upon  one  of  the  company,  who  had 
this  musical  instrument  about  him,  to  play  to  us  from 
morning  to  night;  all  of  which  time  we  employed  in 
dancing.' " 


290  THE    CRANE    FOURTH    READER. 


LESSOR  XCVIII. 

Qiv^il  ized  im^ple  ments  ijov^et  oils 

flour'ish  ing  hug'band  rj"  porished  (isht) 

eas  tle^  m  vid'i  oils  pi^rates 

im  prig^oned  soVemn  eon'quer 

THE   NORMANS. 

1.  About  the  time  that  King  Alfred  was  fighting  against 
the  pirate  Northmen  in  England,  other  bands  of  these 
fierce  rovers  settled  on  the  northern  shores  of  France,  just 
across  the  English  Channel.  This  land  was  known  as  ^^  the 
Northman's  land,"  or  Normandy. 

2.  These  Northmen,  or  Normans,  as  they  were  called, 
soon  gave  up  their  heathen  religion  and  became  Christians. 
They  learned  very  rapidly  all  that  the  people  knew  in  the 
civilized  land  where  they  had  settled.  Within  a  hundred 
years  Normandy  was  settled  with  busy,  flourishing  towns. 
Large  churches  and  stately  stone  castles  had  been  built  in 
many  parts  of  the  country. 

3.  They  changed  their  language  and  government  as  well 
as  their  religion.  They  now  spoke  French  instead  of  their 
old  Norse  language,  and  were  ruled  both  in  peace  and  war 
by  one  man,  called  a  duke,  instead  of  having  the  laws  made 
by  the  people  themselves  in  town  meetings. 

4.  These  Normans,  who  had  been  the  fiercest  of  all  the 
northern  pirates,  soon  were  noted  through  all  Europe  for 
their  graceful  and  polished  manners. 

5.  But  although  they  learned  so  much  from  the  French, 
they  had  not  forgotten  how  to  be  brave  and  daring  soldiers. 


THE    CRANE    FOURTH   READER.  291 

After  they  had  taken  all  the  land  they  could  possibly  get  in 
France,  they  began  to  look  with  covetous  eyes  toward  the 
rich  and  pleasant  fields  of  England. 

6.  Their  longing  to  possess  the  country  grew,  as  they 
heard  more  of  it ;  so,  in  1066,  they  crossed  the  Channel  to 
conquer  it.  The  English  fought  bravely,  you  may  be  sure, 
but  the  Norman  soldiers  had  better  horses  and  weapons, 
and  were  more  carefully  trained.  The  English  were  de- 
feated, and  their  king  was  killed.  In  this  way  the  Duke 
of  Normandy  became  the  king  of  England. 

7.  The  best  lands  were  taken  away  from  the  English  and 
given  to  the  Normans,  who  had  to  build  castles  all  over  the 
country  to  defend  their  new  property. 

8.  The  English  fought  against  the  Normans  again  and 
again,  but  they  were  punished  so  cruelly  every  time  that 
they  soon  gave  up  fighting. 

9.  England  was  now  ruled  by  the  Norman  kings,  who 
governed  just  as  they  liked  in  most  matters. 

10.  The  people  had  little  or  no  part  in  making  the  laws. 
Fortunately,  the  first  six  of  the  Norman  kings  were  wise 
and  just  rulers.  "  They  kept  the  people  at  peace  and  car- 
ried order  and  justice  to  every  corner  of  the  land." 

11.  But  the  seventh  king.  King  John,  was  thoroughly 
wicked.  He  treated  both  the  Normans  and  the  English 
cruelly  and  unjustly.  In  this  way  the  people  saw  that  it 
would  not  do  to  leave  all  the  law-making  to  the  king,  be- 
cause whenever  he  happened  to  be  a  cruel  or  unjust  man 
the  whole  country  suffered. 

12.  So,  after  a  great  deal  of  thinking  and  talking,  the 
English  and  Normans  forgot  that  they  hated  each  other 
and  joined  together  against  the  king.     They  made  him 


^92  THE    CRANE    FOURTH   READER. 

sign  a  paper  called  the  Great  Charter  (Magna  Charta), 
in  which  he  promised  to  make  the  laws  only  by  the  advice  of 
a  great  meeting  of  the  people ;  ''  to  imprison  no  man  with- 
out a  fair  trial ;  and  to  sell,  delay,  or  deny  justice  to  none." 

13.  The  object  of  Magna  Charta  was  to  put  a  sto^)  to  fines 
and  oppressions.  It  speaks  of  sixty-three  things,  some  of 
which  are  as  follows :  '^  That  the  goods  of  every  free  man 
shall  be  disposed  of,  after  his  death,  according  to  his  will ; 
that  if  he  die  without  making  a  will,  his  children  shall  suc- 
ceed to  his  property ;  that  no  officer  of  the  crown  shall  take 
horses,  carts,  or  wood,  without  the  consent  of  the  owner; 
that  no  free  man  shall  be  imprisoned,  outlawed,  or  ban- 
ished, unless  by  the  judgment  of  his  peers,  or  the  law  of  the 
land ;  that  even  a  rustic  shall  not  by  any  fine  be  bereaved 
of  his  carts,  plows,  and  implements  of  husbandry."  This 
last  was  the  only  article  in  that  great  charter  for  the  pro- 
tection of  the  laboring  people.  The  invidious  word  "  even  " 
shows  plainly  how  little  they  were  considered  or  thought  of. 

14.  By  this  means,  even  if  a  king  were  wicked  or  stupid, 
he  could  not  do  very  much  harm,  because  he  could  not 
make  laws  without  the  consent  of  this  great  meeting  of  the 
people. 

15.  After  this,  every  king,  at  the  time  he  was  crowned, 
was  compelled  to  make  a  solemn  promise  to  keep  this 
charter.  There  was  always  peace  in  the  land  so  long  as 
the  king  kept  his  promise,  but  whenever  he  broke  his  prom 
ise  and  set  aside  the  right  of  the  people  to  be  ruled  justly 
there  was  always  war  in  the  land. 


THE    CRANE    FOURTH    READER. 


293 


mer'chan  di§e 
€011  Yey'anQe 
pm^a  fore§ 
fan  tas^tie 


lesso:n^  xcix. 

dis^triets 
sur  prlge^ 
re  qeive' 
€on^tra  ry- 


slouched 

buFwarks  (wiirks) 
Horiand 
lo  cari  ties 


MARY    MAPES    DODGE. 


HOLLAND. 

Mary  Mapes  Dodge  (1838)  began  writing  as 
a  means  of  support  for  herself  and  her  two 
fatherless  children.  Many  children  have  read 
her  stories,  Hans  Brinker  and  Donald  and 
Uorothy.  But  by  most  children  she  will  be  re- 
membered as  the  editor  of  the  St.  Nicholas, 
which  magazine  she  has  edited  from  its  be- 
ginning. Her  home  has  always  been  in  New 
York  City. 


1.  Holland  is  one  of  the  queerest 
countries  under  the  sun.  It  should  be 
called  Odd-land  or  Contrary-land,  for 

in  nearly  everything  it  is  different  from  other  parts  of 
the  world. 

2.  In  the  first  place,  a  large  part  of  the  country  is  lower 
than  the  level  of , the  sea.  Great  dikes  or  bulwarks  have 
been  put  up  at  a  heavy  cost  of  money  and  labor,  to  keep 
the  ocean  where  it  belongs.  On  certain  parts  of  the  coast, 
it  sometimes  leans  with  all  its  weight  against  the  land,  and 
it  is  as  much  as  the  poor  country  can  do  to  stand  this 
pushing. 

3.  Sometimes  the  dikes  give  way,  or  spring  a  leak,  and 
then  many  unfortunate  things  happen.  They  are  high 
and  wide,  and  the  tops  of  some  of  them  are  covered  with 


294  THE    CRANE    FOURTH   READER. 

buildings  and  trees.  They  have  even  fine  roads  upon  them, 
from  which  horses  may  look  down  upon  the  cottages  by 
the  way. 

4.  Often  ships  are  higher  than  the  roofs  of  the  houses. 
The  stork,  clattering  to  her  young  on  the  house-top,  may 
feel  that  her  nest  is  lifted  far  out  of  danger,  but  the  frog 
in  the  near  bulrushes  is  nearer  the  stars  than  she.  Water- 
bugs  dart  backward  and  forward  above  the  heads  of  the 
chimney-swallows;  and  willow  trees  seem  bending  with 
shame  because  they  cannot  reach  as  high  as  the  water- 
plants  near  by. 

5.  Ditches,  canals,  ponds,  rivers  and  lakes  are  every- 
where to  be  seen.  High,  but  not  dry,  they  shine  in  the  sun- 
light, catching  nearly  all  the  bustle  and  the  business,  quite 
scorning  the  tame  fields  stretching  damply  beside  them. 
One  is  tempted  to  ask,  "Which  is  Holland  —  the  shore 
or  the  water?" 

6.  The  very  verdure  that  should  be  confined  to  the  land 
has  made  a  mistake  and  settled  upon  the  fish-ponds.  In 
fact,  the  entire  country  is  a  kind  of  wet  sponge,  or,  as  the 
English  poet,  Butler,  called  it  — 

"A  land  that  rides  at  anchor,  and  is  moored; 
In  which  they  do  not  live,  but  go  aboard." 

7.  Persons  are  born,  they  live,  and  die,  and  even  have 
their  gardens,  on  canal-boats.  Farm-houses,  with  roofs 
like  great  slouched  hats  pulled  over  their  eyes,  stand  on 
wooden  legs,  with  a  tucked-up  sort  of  air,  as  if  to  say,  "  We 
intend  to  keep  dry  if  we  can."  Even  the  horses  wear  a 
wide  stool  on  each  hoof  to  hold  them  up  out  of  the  mire.  In 
short,  the  landscape  everywhere  suggests  a  paradise  for 
ducks. 


THE    CRANE    FOURTH    READER. 


295 


8.  It  is  a  glorious  country  in  summer  for  barefooted 
girls  and  boys.  Such  wadings !  Such  mimic  ship-sailing ! 
Such  rowing,  fishing,  and  swimming!  Only  think  of  a 
line  of  puddles  where  one  can  launch  chip  boats  all  day 
long,  and  never  make  a  return  trip !  But  enough.  A  full 
recital  would  set  all  young  America  rushing  in  a  body 
toward  this  place. 

9.  Dutch  cities  seem  at  first  sight  to  be  a  confusing 
mixture  of  houses,  bridges,  churches,  and  ships,  sprouting 
into  masts  and  trees.  In  some  cities  vessels  are  tied,  like 
horses,  to  their  owners'  doors,  and  receive  their  freight 
from  the  top  windows. 

10.  Mothers  scream  to  the  children  not  to  swing  on  the 
garden  gate,  for  fear  they  may  be  drowned.  Water  roads 
are  more  often  seen  there  than  common  roads  and  rail- 
roads ;  water  fences,  in  the  form  of  lazy  green  ditches,  in- 
close pleasure-ground,  farm,  and  garden. 

11.  Sometimes  fine  green  hedges  are  seen,  but  wooden 
fences,  such  as  we  have  in  America,  are  seldom  met  with 
in  Holland.  As  for  stone  fences,  a  Dutchman  would  lift  his 
hands  with  surprise  at  the  very  idea.  One  sees  no  stone 
there,  except  those  great  pieces  of  rock  that  have  been 
brought  from  other  lands  to  strengthen  and  protect  the 
coast. 

12.  All  the  small  stones,  if  there  ever  were  any,  seem  to 
be  imprisoned  in  pavements,  or  quite  melted  away.  Boys 
with  strong,  quick  arms  may  grow  from  pinafores  to  old 
age  without  ever  finding  one  to  start  the  water  rings  or  set 
the  rabbits  flying. 

13.  The  water  roads  are  nothing  less  than  canals  cross- 
ing the  country  in  every  direction.    These  are  of  all  sizes, 


THE   CRANE   FOURTH   READER. 

from  the  great  North  Holland  Ship  Canal,  which  is  the 
wonder  of  the  world,  to  those  which  a  boy  can  leap.  Water 
omnibuses  constantly  ply  up  and  down  these  roads  for 
the  conveyance  of  passengers;  and  water-drays  are  used 
for  carrying  fuel  and  merchandise. 

14.  Instead  of  green  country  lanes,  green  canals  stretch 
from  field  to  barn,  and  from  barn  to  garden;  and  the 
farms,  or  "  polders,"  as  they  are  termed,  are  merely  great 
lakes  pumped  dry.  Some  of  the  busiest  streets  are  water, 
while  many  of  the  country  roads  are  paved  with  brick. 
The  city  boats  with  their  rounded  sterns,  gilded  prows, 
and  gaily  painted  sides,  are  unlike  any  others  under  the 
sun;  and  a  Dutch  wagon,  with  its  funny  little  crooked 
pole,  is  a  mystery  of  mysteries. 

15.  Notwithstanding  the  sea  is  pushing  to  get  in,  and 
the  lakes  are  struggling  to  get  out,  and  the  overflowing 
canals,  rivers,  and  ditches,  there  is  in  many  districts  no 
water  fit  to  swallow.  Our  poor  Hollanders  must  go  thirsty, 
or  drink  wine  or  beer,  or  send  far  inland  to  Utrecht  and 
other  favored  localities  for  that  precious  fluid,  older  than 
Adam,  yet  young  as  the  morning  dew.  Sometimes,  in- 
deed, the  inhabitants  swallow  a  shower  when  they  are  pro- 
vided with  any  means  for  catching  it ;  but  generally  they 
see 

"  Water,  water  everywhere, 
But  not  a  drop  to  drink!  " 

16.  Great  flapping  windmills  all  over  the  country  make 
it  look  as  if  flocks  of  huge  seabirds  were  just  settling 
upon  it.  Everywhere  one  sees  the  funniest  trees,  bobbed 
into  fantastic  shapes,  with  their  trunks  painted  a  dazzling 
white,  yellow,  or  red. 


THE    CEANE    FOUKTH   READER. 


297 


17.  Horses  are  often  yoked  three  abreast.  Men,  women 
and  children  go  clattering  about  in  wooden  shoes  with 
loose  heels ;  peasant  girls,  who  cannot  get  beaus  for  love, 
hire  them  for  money  to  escort  them  to  the  fair ;  and  hus- 
bands and  wives  lovingly  harness  themselves  side  by  side 
on  the  bank  of  a  canal,  and  drag  their  produce  to  market. 

Maby  Mates  Dodge. 
Draw  a  picture  of  a  Holland  windmill. 
Describe  a  dike.     How  are  they  made? 
What  are  the  uses  of  dikes? 


Ply'moiith 
Brad'ford 
Brew^ster 
fran'chi§e 


LESSOIT   C. 

Mas  sa  soit^ 
o'er  shad'owed 
prep  a  ra^tiong 
mer^ri  ly 


has'^ened 
trench^er 
sl?Lug¥tered 
hrosid' sword 


THANKSGIVING. 

(A.  D.  1621.) 

1.  "  And  now,"  said  the  governor,  gazing  abroad  on  the 

piled-up  store 
Of  the  sheaves  that  dotted  the  clearings  and  dotted  the 

meadows  o'er, 
"  'T  is  meet  that  we  render  praises  because  of  this  yield 

of  grain ; 
'T  is  meet  that  the  Lord  of  this  harvest  be  thanked  for 

his  sun  and  rain. 

2.  "  And  therefore  I,  William  Bradford  (by  the  grace  of 

God  to-day 
And  the  franchise  of  this  good  people),  governor  of 
Plymouth,  say  — 


298  THE    CRANE    FOURTH    READER. 


I 


Through  virtue  of  vested  power  —  ye  shall  gather  of 

one  accord, 
And  hold  in  the  month  of  November  Thanksgiving 

unto  the  Lord. 

3.  "He  hath  granted  us  peace  and  plenty  and  the  quiet 

we've  sought  so  long; 
He  hath  thwarted  the  wily  savage  and  kept  him  from 

doing  us  wrong. 
And  unto  our  feast  the  sachem  shall  be  bidden,  that 

he  may  know 
We  worship  his  own  Great  Spirit,  who  maketh  the 

harvests  grow. 

4.  "  So  shoulder  your  matchlocks,  masters ;  there  is  hunt- 

ing of  all  degrees ; 
And  fishermen,  take  your  tackle,  and  scour  for  spoil 

the  seas; 
And  maidens  and  dames  of  Plymouth,  your  delicate 

crafts  employ. 
To  honor  our  first  Thanksgiving  and  make  it  a  feast 

of  joy! 

5.  "We  fail  of  the  fruits  and  dainties  so  close  to  our 

hand  in  Devon. 
Ah,  they  are  the  lightest  losses  we  suffer  for  sake  of 

Heaven ! 
But  see  in  our  open  clearings  how  golden  the  melons 

lie: 
Enrich  them  with  sweets  and  spices,  and  give  us  the 

pumpkin  pie!" 


THE    CKANE   FOUETH   READER. 


299 


6.  So  bravely  the  preparations  went  on  for  the  autnmn 

feast. 
The  deer  and  the  bear  were  slaughtered;   wild  game 

from  the  greatest  to  least 
Was  heaped  in  the  colony  cabins;   brown  home-brew 

served  for  wine, 
And  the  plum  and  the  grape  of  the  forest  for  orange 

and  peach  and  pine. 

7.  At  length  came  the  day  appointed.     The  snow  had 

begun  to  fall, 
But  the  clang  from  the  meeting-house  belfry  rang 

merrily  out  for  all, 
And  summoned  the  folk  of  Plymouth,  who  hastened 

with  glad  accord. 
To  listen  to  Elder  Brewster  as  he  fervently  thanked 

the  Lord. 

8.  In  his  seat  sate  Governor  Bradford;   men,  matrons, 

and  maidens  fair; 
Miles  Standish  and  all  his  soldiers,  with  corselet  and 

sword,  were  there. 
And  sobbing  and  fears  and  gladness  had  each  in  its 

turn  the  sway, 
For  the  grave  of  the  sweet  Rose  Standish  o'ershad- 

owed  Thanksgiving  day. 


9.  And  when  Massasoit,  the  sachem,  sate  down  with  his 
hundred  braves. 
And  ate  of  the  varied  riches  of  gardens  and  woods  and 
waves, 


300  THE    CKANE   FOURTH   READER. 

And  looked  on  the  granaried  harvest  —  with  a  blow 

on  his  brawny  chest, 
He  muttered,  "  The  good  Great  Spirit  loves  his  white 

children  best!" 

10.  And  then,  as  the  feast  was  ended,  with  gravely  official 
air, 

The  governor  drew  his  broadsword  out  from  its  scab- 
bard there. 

And,  smiting  the  trencher  near  him,  he  cried  in  heroic 
way: 

"Hail!  pie  of  the  pumpkin!  I  dub  thee  Prince  of 
Thanksgiving  Day ! " 

Unidentified. 


lesso:n^  CI. 

A  the^ni  an 

Ar^go  nawts 

Nes'tor 

Nep'ttine 

Or'phe  us 

Me  de'a 

Thra'cian  (shan) 

Her'€u  leg 

€or€Ms 

THE 

GOLDEN   FLEECE. 
PART  I. 

1.  Many  ages  ago,  even  before  the  famous  Trojan  war, 
there  was  kept  in  a  temple  at  Colchis,  on  the  eastern  shore 
of  the  Black  sea,  a  famous  golden  fleece.  It  had  once  been 
worn  by  a  wonderful  ram,  that  Neptune,  the  great  god  of 
the  sea,  had  given  to  one  of  his  favorites.  It  was  a  won- 
der of  the  world,  and  its  fame  was  known  wherever  the 
sailors  of  those  days  went  on  their  voyages. 

2.  This  fleece  had  been  taken  from  its  rightful  owner  by 


THE    CRANE    FOURTH    READER. 


301 


the  king  of  Colcliis;  and  in  course  of  time,  a  Greek 
youth  named  Jason  resolved  to  seek  it  and  to  bring  it  as 
a  present  to  Greece.  The  gods  helped  him  to  build  the 
Argo,  a  ship  whose  name  is  still  very  common.  When  the 
undertaking  was  noised  abroad,  many  famous  Grecian 
heroes  came  to  join  their  fortunes  with  the  bold  leader. 

3.  There  was  Orpheus,  the  famous  Thracian  singer, 
whose  music  charmed  trees  and  beasts,  and  moved  even 
stones.  There  was  Theseus,  the  great  Athenian  hero. 
There  was  Nestor,  who,  many  years  after,  went  with  the 
Greeks  against  Troy.  But  greatest  of  all,  not  excepting 
Jason  himself,  there  was  the  young  Hercules,  with  his 
lion-skin  and  stick.  Fifty  stout  men  in  all,  they  were 
enough  to  meet  a  great  army  of  common  men.  They  are 
known  in  story  as  the  Argonauts. 

4.  But  the  fighting  was  the  smallest  part  of  the  danger- 
ous undertaking.  There  were  strange  seas  to  cross,  and 
dangers  to  meet  all  the  way,  which  not  even  the  bravest 
and  strongest  of  all  could  overcome.  At  the  gate  of  the 
sea  there  were  two  very  large  rocks,  called  the  Clashers, 
which  were  thrown  together  continually  by  the  waves,  in 
such  a  way  that  no  ships  —  not  even  a  swift  boat  —  dared 
to  pass  between  them. 

5.  A  wise  old  prince,  however,  told  them  that  ^they 
should  take  a  bird  which  he  gave  them,  and  when  they  had 
brought  the  ship  close  up  to  the  rocks,  they  should  let  the 
bird  loose.  If  the  bird  went  safely  through,  they  might 
also  pass.  They  followed  his  directions,  and,  as  the  bird 
went  through  safely,  they  drove  their  ship  into  the  place 
and  came  through  in  safety.  No  sooner  had  they  passed 
than  the  rocks  fell  back,  and  ever  after  remained  quiet. 


302  THE    CEANE   FOURTH   READER. 


^1 


6.  After  many  strange  adventures,  and  after  losing 
some  of  their  number,  they  arrived  at  Colchis.  Hercules 
was  one  of  those  whom  they  left  by  the  way,  and  they 
missed  him  sadly.  The  king  of  Colchis  received  them  very 
kindly,  and  expressed  himself  as  very  willing  to  give  up 
the  fleece  to  anyone  who  could  perform  the  work  to  be 
done.  The  sly  old  fellow  had  so  managed  it  that  he 
thought  no  one  could  possibly  do  what  he  asked. 

7.  In  the  first  place,  the  person  must  yoke  two  brazen 
bulls  that  breathed  fire  and  sulphur,  and  with  a  plow  that 
hung  by  them  plow  a  certain  field,  called  the  Field  of 
Mars.  Then  he  must  plant  the  field  with  the  teeth  of  a 
dragon,  and  watch  for  the  crop  which  sprang  up.  If  he 
could  harvest  that  crop,  he  might  then  go  to  the  temple 
where  the  fleece  was  kept,  under  the  care  of  a  sleepless 
dragon  whose  hide  was  too  thick  for  human  weapon  to 
pierce.  If  he  could  overcome  or  charm  this  monster,  he 
was  at  liberty  to  carry  away  the  fleece. 

8.  The  old  king's  daughter,  Medea,  was  directed  by  her 
father  to  tell  Jason  of  these  pleasant  little  obstacles  in 
the  way  of  his  success,  and  she  warned  him  most  earnestly 
not  to  attempt  the  task.  But  Jason  answered  that  he 
should  certainly  try  his  best,  and  that  if  he  was  killed  in 
the  trial,  she  must  remember  his  name.  Then  he  went 
out  with  his  comrades,  leaving  Medea  full  of  admiration 
and  pity  for  the  daring,  handsome  youth.  She  sat  a  long 
time  silent,  and  at  last  she  resolved  that  he  should  not  die. 

9.  She  alone  knew  how  to  guide  him  through  his  task. 
She  was  a  famous  enchantress,  and  knew  secrets  that 
mortals  seldom  know.  She  spent  most  of  that  night  in 
seeking  magic  herbs,  and  made  an  ointment  which  would 


THE    CRANE    FOURTH   READER. 


303 


protect  one  from  the  fiery  breath  of  the  brazen  bulls.  In 
the  gray  of  the  dawning  she  stole,  pale  and  trembling,  to 
Jason's  chamber ;  and  first  slipping  away  the  sword  which 
lay  nnder  his  hand,  she  lightly  awoke  him. 

Where  was  the  golden  fleece  kept? 

Who  was  Neptune? 

What  did  Jason  resolve  to  do? 

Who  was  Orpheus,  and  what  would  his  music  do? 

Who  was  the  greatest  man  in  the  expedition? 

How  many  were  there  in  the  expedition? 

What  name  was  given  to  these  men? 

What  were  there  at  the  gate  of  the  sea  ? 

What  was  there  that  was  peculiar  about  these  rocks? 

How  were  the  Argonauts  directed  to  get  through? 

What  was  to  be  done  before  the  golden  fleece  could  be  taken  away? 

— Adapted. 


eom^radeg 
oint^ment 
ad  ven^ture 
sheathe 


LESSOl^  OIL 

pliin^der  er§ 
de  vom^ed' 
ri^er  y 
ad  mi  ra'tion 


iin  sheathed^ 
monasters 
hid^eoiis 
lyre 


THE    GOLDEN    FLEECE. 
PART  II. 

1.  Jason  sprang  up  in  terror,  and  reached  in  vain  for 
his  sword.  She  hushed  him  with  her  finger  on  her  lips, 
and  told  him  she  had  come  to  save  him.  She  gave  him  the 
precious  ointment  which  would  protect  him  from  the  fiery 
breath  of  the  monsters,  and  showed  him  its  power  by 
holding  her  hand,  on  which  some  had  been  put,  in  the  flame 
of  the  lamp.    Then  she  told  him  that  the  crop  which  would 


304  THE    CRAKE    FOURTH   READER. 

spring  from  the  planting  of  the  dragon's  teeth  would  be 
an  army  of  men.    He  must  not,  however,  attack  them,  but 
should  throw  a  ball  which  she  gave  him  into  their  ranks,       ^ 
upon  which  they  would  turn  their  weapons  upon  one  an-  ^  j 
other. 

2.  Jason  could  do  no  less  than  promise  eternal  love  to 
the  fair  maiden  who  showed  such  a  tender  interest  in  him. 
He  thankfully  received  her  presents,  and  she  went  hur- 
riedly away  before  day  broke.  Jason  anointed  himself 
from  head  to  foot  with  the  ointment,  and  then  wondered 
over  the  strange  good  fortune  that  had  come  to  him. 

3.  When  the  hour  for  the  trial  came,  Jason  went  to  the 
place  where  the  beasts  were  kept.  The  bars  were  red-hot 
with  their  flaming  breath,  but  the  hero  went  in,  and  though 
the  smoke  almost  blinded  him,  he  found  the  yoke  and  the 
plow  all  ready.  As  soon  as  the  monsters  saw  the  yoke  in 
his  hands,  they  became  quiet,  and  were  yoked  and  driven 
forth,  and  in  a  short  time  the  field  was  plowed.  As  soon 
as  this  was  done,  the  monsters  fell  dead. 

4.  The  king  was  much  frightened  at  the  failure  of  his 
first  trial,  but  took  courage  and  called  for  the  next.  So 
Jason  took  the  sack  of  dragon's  teeth  and  planted  them 
over  the  field.  Before  he  had  turned  back  to  the  starting- 
place,  the  whole  field  was  covered  with  heaps  of  new-  ■ 
made  graves,  but  these  were  swelling  and  struggling,  and 
at  last  there  came  up  a  great  army  of  men,  in  bright  armor, 
with  shining  swords  all  unsheathed. 

5.  Jason  forgot  the  magic  ball  for  a  moment,  and  half 
drew  his  sword;  but  remembering  Medea's  warning,  he 
threw  the  ball  into  the  crowd.  The  man  whom  it  struck 
immediately  turned  and  struck  his  next  neighbor  a  stun- 


THE    CRANE    FOURTH    READER.  305 

ning  blow,  and  in  an  instant  the  whole  host  were  hewing 
away  at  one  another,  and  in  an  hour  they  were  all  dead. 

6.  Then  Jason  called  for  the  keys  of  the  temple,  but,  as 
Medea  had  foreseen  and  foretold,  the  king  began  to  try 
flattery.  He  told  Jason  that  he  was  now  sure  that  the  gods 
had  decided  that  the  fleece  should  go  back  to  Greece,  and 
that  he  was  perfectly  satisfied  to  have  it  so.  However,  he 
knew  that  Jason  must  be  weary,  and  had  better  wait  till 
another,  day  before  he  undertook  the  final  adventure, 
which,  he  had  not  a  doubt,  would  be  as  easy  as  the  other 
two  had  been.  Jason  assented,  but  quietly  passed  the 
word  to  his  comrades  to  have  the  Argo  all  prepared,  and 
to  be  armed  and  ready  for  sea  at  a  moments  notice. 

7.  In  the  dead  of  night  Medea  found  the  temple  keys, 
and  silently  called  to  Jason,  who  was  armed  and  ready. 
They  stole  in  silence  to  the  temple.  She  bade  him  sheathe 
his  sword,  for  it  would  now  be  of  no  use  to  him.  The  outer 
gate  was  unlocked,  for  the  dragon  was  guard  enough  to 
keep  all  plunderers  away.  Once  inside  the  gate,  Medea 
began  to  play  upon  a  golden  lyre,  whispering  to  Jason 
that  she  would  do  her  best  to  charm  the  beast  with  music. 
If  she  failed,  she  would  be  the  first  to  perish ;  then  Jason 
must  attack  the  monster  and  die,  if  he  would  not  see  her 
devoured  as  well  as  killed. 

8.  She  played  and  sang,  while  the  dreadful  monster 
crept  uneasily  about  and  watched  her  with  fiery  eyes ;  but 
her  eyes  did  not  droop  and  her  voice  did  not  falter.  At 
last  the  dragon  lay  quietly  at  her  feet,  and  she,  with  a 
shudder,  put  her  foot  upon  his  hideous  neck,  and  told 
Jason  to  take  the  fleece.    Hurriedly  and  silently  he  opened 

—20 


306  THE    CEANE    EOUKTH    HEADER. 


II 


the  seven  locks  and  took  the  shining  treasure,  which  was 
as  much  as  he  could  lift,  and  they  sped  away. 

9.  Together  they  fled  through  the  silent  town,  and  the 
joyful  Argonauts  received  them  with  low  murmurs  of  ad- 
miration. Quickly  and  silently  they  slipped  their  cahles 
and  dipped  their  strong  oars  for  flight.  Hardly  had  they 
left  the  shore  before  the  beacon-fires  began  to  blaze,  and 
horns  were  blown,  and  the  harbor  was  alive  with  boats 
launching  in  pursuit.  The  heroes  now  shouted  aloud,  and 
Orpheus  took  his  lyre  and  sang  his  loudest,  you  may  be 
sure,  in  honor  of  the  beautiful  and  daring  Medea,  and 
their  gallant  leader,  and  the  Glplden  Fleece. 

10.  It  is  too  long  a  story  to  tell  all  that  befell  the  Ar- 
gonauts in  their  voyage  back  to  Greece.  The  saddest  part 
of  this  famous  story  is  that  Jason,  after  many  years,  neg- 
lected Medea,  his  loving  and  daring  wife,  and  took  in  her 
place  a  younger  and  fairer  bride.  This  aroused  Medea's 
anger,  and  she  used  her  magic  power  for  a  most  terrible 
vengeance  upon  her  own  children  and  upon  her  rival. 

Name  all  the  characters  in  this  story. 
Tell  what  each  did. 


Hero-worship  exists,  has  existed,  and  will  forever  exist,  universally 
among  mankind. — Carlyle. 

Industrious  persons,  by  an  exact  and  scrupulous  diligence  and  observa- 
tion, out  of  monuments,  names,  words,  proverbs,  traditions,  private  rec- 
ords and  evidences,  fragments  of  stories,  passages  of  books  that  concern 
not  story,  and  the  like,  do  save  and  recover  somewhat  from  the  deluge  of 
time. — Bacon. 


THE   CRANE    FOURTH   READER. 


307 


mag^i€  al 
trop^ie  al 


LESSOR  cm. 

iin  swept^ 
mi  rage' 
(me  razhO 

THE   LONG   AGO. 


tur'bu  lent 

aye 

trin'kets 


1.  Oh!   a  wonderful  stream  is  the  river  Time, 

As  it  runs  through  the  realm  of  tears, 
With  a  faultless  rhythm  and  a  musical  rhyme 
And  a  boundless  sweep  and  a  surge  sublime. 

As  it  blends  with  the  ocean  of  years ! 

2.  How  the  winters  are  drifting  like  flakes  of  snow. 

And  the  summers  like  buds  between. 
And  the  years  in  the  sheaf,  how  they  come  and  they  go 
On  the  river's  breast  with  its  ebb  and  flow, 

As  it  glides  in  the  shadow  and  sheen ! 

3.  There 's  a  magical  isle  up  the  river  Time, 

Where  the  softest  of  airs  are  playing; 
There 's  a  cloudless  sky  and  a  tropical  clime. 
And  a  song  as  sweet  as  a  vesper  chime. 

And  the  Junes  with  the  roses  are  staying. 


And  the  name  of  this  isle  is  "  The  Long  Ago," 

And  we  bury  our  treasures  there : 
There  are  brows  of  beauty  and  bosoms  of  snow, 
There  are  heaps  of  dust  —  but  we  love  them  so 
There  are  trinkets,  and  tresses  of  hair. 


1 


308  THE    CRANE   FOURTH   READER. 

5.  There  are  fragments  of  songs  that  nobody  sings, 

There  are  parts  of  an  infant's  prayer, 
There 's  a  lute  unswept  and  a  harp  without  strings. 
There  are  broken  vows  and  pieces  of  rings, 

And  the  garments  our  dead  used  to  wear. 

6.  There  are  hands  that  are  waved  when  the  fairy  shore 

By  the  mirage  is  lifted  in  air, 
And  we  sometimes  hear  through  the  turbulent  roar 
Sweet  voices  we  heard  in  the  days  gone  before. 

When  the  wind  down  the  river  was  fair. 

7.  Oh!   remembered  for  aye  be  that  blessed  isle, 

All  the  day  of  our  life  until  night : 
When  the  evening  comes  with  its  beautiful  smile. 
And  our  eyes  are  closing  to  slumber  awhile, 

May  the  "  Greenwood  "  of  soul  be  in  sight ! 

Benjamin  F.  Taylor. 

LESSOE^  CIV. 

rd6ks  jo  eose^  ae^eti  ra  Qy 

dis  pir'it  ed  des'ti  tute  m'di  eat  ed 

singed  ^  de  libber  at  mg  ag  i  taction 

buoy  (bwoi)  griiff  ish  dis  eon^so  late  1^ 

DAVID  COPPERFIELD   FINDS   HIS  AUNT. 

PART  I. 

1.  Under  the  difficulties  which  beset  me  on  my  journey, 
I  seemed  to  be  sustained  and  led  on  by  my  fanciful  picture 
of  my  mother  in  her  youth,  before  I  came  into  this  world. 
It  always  kept  me  company.  It  was  there  among  the  hops 
when  I  lay  down  to  sleep ;  it  was  with  me  on  my  waking  in 


THE    CKANE    FOURTH    READER. 


309 


the  morning ;  it  went  before  me  all  day.  I  have  associated 
it,  ever  since,  with  the  sunny  street  of  Canterbury,  dozing, 
as  it  were,  in  the  hot  light ;  and  with  the  sight  of  its  old 
houses  and  gateways,  and  the  stately  gray  cathedral,  with 
the  rooks  sailing  around  the  towers. 

2.  When  I  came  at  last  upon  the  bare,  wide  downs  near 
Dover,  it  relieved  the  solitary  appearance  of  the  scene 
with  hope ;  and  not  until  I  reached  that  first  great  aim  of 
my  journey,  and  actually  set  foot  in  the  town  itself,  on  the 
sixth  day  of  my  flight,  did  it  leave  me.  But  then,  strange 
to  say,  when  I  stood  with  my  ragged  shoes,  and  my  dusty, 
sunburned,  half-clothed  figure,  in  the  place  so  long  desired, 
it  seemed  to  vanish  like  a  dream,  and  to  leave  me  helpless 
and  dispirited. 

3.  I  inquired  about  my  aunt  among  the  boatmen  first, 
and  received  various  answers.  One  said  she  lived  in  the 
South  Foreland  Light,  and  had  singed  her  whiskers  by 
doing  so;  another,  that  she  was  made  fast  to  the  great 
buoy  outside  the  harbor,  and  could  only  be  visited  at  half- 
tide;  a  third,  that  she  was  locked  up  in  Maidstone  jail 
for  child-stealing ;  a  fourth,  that  she  was  seen  to  mount  a 
broom,  in  the  last  high  wind,  and  make  direct  for  Calais. 

4.  The  fly-drivers,  among  whom  I  inquired  next,  were 
equally  jocose  and  equally  disrespectful.  The  shopkeep- 
ers, not  liking  my  appearance,  generally  replied,  without 
hearing  what  I  had  to  say,  that  they  had  got  nothing  for 
me.  I  felt  more  miserable  and  destitute  than  I  had  done  at 
any  period  of  my  running  away.  My  money  was  all  gone. 
I  had  nothing  left  to  dispose  of;  I  was  hungry,  thirsty, 
and  worn  out,  and  seemed  as  distant  from  my  end  as  if  I 
had  remained  in  London, 


310  THE    CRANE   FOURTH   READER. 

5.  The  morning  had  worn  away  in  these  inquiries,  and  I 
was  sitting  on  the  step  of  an  empty  shop,  at  a  street- 
corner  near  the  market-place,  deliberating  npon  wander- 
ing toward  those  other  places  which  had  been  mentioned, 
when  a  fly-driver,  coming  by  with  his  carriage,  dropped  a 
horse-cloth.  Something  good-natured  in  the  man's  face, 
as  I  handed  it  up,  gave  me  courage  to  ask  him  if  he  could 
tell  me  where  Miss  Trotwood  lived,  though  I  had  asked 
the  question  so  often  that  it  almost  died  upon  my  lips. 

6.  "Trotwood!"  said  he.  "Let  me  see,  I  know  the 
name,  too.    Old  lady! " 

"  Yes,"  I  said,  "  rather." 

"Pretty  stiff  in  the  back!"  said  he,  making  himself 
upright.    ■ 

"  Yes,"  I  said.    "  I  should  think  it  very  likely." 

"  Carries  a  bag ! "  said  he,  "  bag  with  a  good  deal  of 
room  in  it — is  gruffish,  and  comes  down  upon  you  sharp ! " 

My  heart  sank  within  me  as  I  acknowledged  the  un- 
doubted accuracy  of  this  description. 

7.  "  Why,  then,  I  tell  you  what,"  said  he,  "  if  you  go  up 
there,"  pointing  with  his  whip  toward  the  heights,  "and 
keep  right  on  till  you  come  to  some  houses  facing  the  sea, 
I  think  you  will  hear  of  her.  My  opinion  is,  she  won't 
stand  anything ;  so  here 's  a  penny  for  you." 

I  accepted  the  gift  thankfully,  and  bought  a  loaf  with  it. 
Dispatching  this  refreshment  by  the  way,  I  went  in  the 
direction  my  friend  had  indicated,  and  walked  on  a  good 
distance  without  coming  to  the  houses  he  had  mentioned. 

8.  At  length  I  saw  some  before  me,  and  approaching 
them,  went  into  a  little  shop  (it  was  what  we  used  to  call 
a'  general  shop  at  home)  and  inquired  if  they  would  have 


THE    CRANE    FOURTH    READER. 


311 


the  goodness  to  tell  me  where  Miss  Trotwood  lived.  I  ad- 
dressed myself  to  a  man  behind  the  counter,  who  was 
weighing  some  rice  for  a  young  woman ;  but  the  latter, 
taking  the  inquiry  to  herself,  turned  round  quickly. 

9.  ^^  My  mistress  ? "  she  said.  "  What  do  you  want  with 
her,  boyT' 

"  I  want,"  I  replied,  "  to  speak  to  her,  if  you  please." 
"  To  beg  of  her,  you  mean,"  retorted  the  damsel. 
"No,"  I  said,  ''indeed."     But  suddenly  remembering 

that,  in  truth,  I  came  for  no  other  purpose,  I  held  my 

peace  in  confusion,  and  felt  my  face  burn. 

10.  My  aunt's  handmaid,  as  I  supposed  she  was  from 
what  she  had  said,  put  her  rice  in  a  little  basket  and 
walked  out  of  the  shop,  telling  me  that  I  could  follow  her 
if  I  wanted  to  know  where  Miss  Trotwood  lived.  I  needed 
no  second  permission,  though  I  was  by  this  time  in  such  a 
state  of  consternation  and  agitation  that  my  legs  shook 
under  me.  I  followed  the  young  woman,  and  we  soon 
came  to  a  very  neat  little  cottage  with  cheerful  bow- 
windows  ;  in  front  of  it  a  small,  square,  graveled  garden, 
full  of  flowers,  carefully  tended,  and  smelling  deliciously. 

11.  "  This  is  Miss  Trotwood's,"  said  the  young  woman. 
"  Now  you  know ;  and  that 's  all  I  have  got  to  say."  With 
which  words  she  hurried  into  the  house,  as  if  to  shake  off 
the  responsibility  of  my  appearance,  and  left  me  standing 
at  the  garden  gate,  looking  disconsolately  over  the  top 
of  it  toward  the  parlor  window,  where  a  muslin  curtain 
partly  undrawn  in  the  middle,  a  large,  round  green  screen 
or  fan  fastened  to  the  window-sill,  a  small  table,  and  a 
great  chair,  suggested  to  me  that  my  aunt  might  be,  at 
that  moment,  seated  in  awful  state. 


312  THE    CKANE   FOUKTH   KEADER. 


LESSON  CV. 


^1 


limekiln  des  per  action  lan^^et 

tin  a€  €us^t6med  €oriared  sur^geon 

for^mi  da  ble  a  maze'ment  e  jae^u  lat  ed 

gro  tesque'  (tesk)  an  eho'yf  hys  ter'ie  al 

DAVID  COPPERFIELD   FINDS   HIS  AUNT. 

PAKT  II. 

1.  My  shoes  were  by  this  time  in  a  woeful  condition. 
The  soles  had  shed  themselves  bit  by  bit,  and  the  upper 
leathers  had  broken  and  burst  until  the  very  shape  and 
form  of  shoes  had  departed  from  them.  My  hat  (which 
had  served  me  for  a  night-cap,  too)  was  so  crushed  and 
bent  that  no  old,  battered,  handleless  saucepan  need  have 
been  ashamed  to  vie  with  it.  My  shirt  and  trousers, 
stained  with  heat,  dew,  grass,  and  the  Kentish  soil  on 
which  I  had  slept  —  and  torn  besides  —  might  have  fright- 
ened the  birds  from  my  aunt's  garden  as  I  stood  at  the 
gate. 

2.  My  hair  had  known  no  comb  or  brush  since  I  left 
London.  My  face,  neck,  and  hands,  from  unaccustomed 
exposure  to  the  air  and  sun,  were  burned  to  a  berry  brown. 
From  head  to  foot,  I  was  powdered  almost  as  white  with 
chalk  and  dust  as  if  I  had  come  out  of  a  limekiln.  In  this 
plight,  and  with  a  strong  consciousness  of  it,  I  waited  to 
introduce  myself  to,  and  make  my  first  impression  on,  my 
formidable  aunt. 

3.  The  unbroken  stillness  of  the  parlor  window  leading 
me  to  infer,  after  a  while,  that  she  was  not  there,  I  lifted 
up  my  eyes  to  the  window  above  it,  where  I  saw  a  florid, 


THE    CKANE    FOURTH    READER. 


313 


pleasant-looking  gentleman,  with  a  gray  head,  who  shut  up 
one  eye  in  a  grotesque  manner,  nodded  his  head  at  me  sev- 
eral times,  and  shook  it  at  me  as  often,  laughed,  and  went 
away. 

4.  I  had  been  discomposed  enough  before ;  but  I  was  so 
much  the  more  discomposed  by  this  unexpected  behavior, 
that  I  was  on  the  point  of  slinking  off,  to  think  how  I  had 
best  proceed,  when  there  came  out  of  the  house  a  lady  with 
her  handkerchief  tied  over  her  cap,  and  a  pair  of  garden- 
ing gloves  on  her  hands,  wearing  a  gardening  pocket  like 
a  tollman's  apron,  and  carrying  a  great  knife.  I  knew  her 
immediately  to  be  Miss  Betsy,  for  she  came  stalking  out 
of  the  house  exactly  as  my  poor  mother  had  so  often  de- 
scribed her  stalldng  up  our  garden  at  Blunderstone 
Eookery. 

5.  "  Go  away ! ''  said  Miss  Betsy,  shaking  her  head,  and 
making  a  distant  chop  in  the  air  with  her  knife.  "  Go 
along !    No  boys  here ! '' 

I  watched  her  with  my  heart  at  my  lips,  as  she  marched 
to  a  corner  of  her  garden,  and  stooped  to  dig  up  some 
little  root  there.  Then,  without  a  scrap  of  courage,  but 
with  a  great  deal  of  desperation,  I  went  softly  in  and 
stood  beside  her,  touching  her  with  my  finger. 

6.  "  If  you  please,  ma'am,"  I  began. 
She  started  and  looked  up. 

"If  you  please,  aunt  —  " 

"Eh!"  exclaimed  Miss  Betsy,  in  a  tone  of  amazement 
I  have  never  heard  approached. 

"  If  you  please,  aunt,  I  am  your  nephew." 

"  Oh ! "  said  my  aunt,  and  sat  flat  down  in  the  garden 
path. 


314  THE    CRANE   FOURTH   READER. 

7.  "I  am  David  Copperfield,  of  Blunderstone,  in  Suf- 
folk —  where  you  came  on  the  night  when  I  was  born,  and 
saw  my  dear  mamma.  I  have  been  very  unhappy  since 
she  died.  I  have  been  slighted,  and  taught  nothing,  and 
thrown  upon  myself,  and  put  to  work  not  fit  for  me.  It 
made  me  run  away  to  you.  I  was  robbed  at  first  setting 
out,  and  have  walked  all  the  way,  and  have  never  sle]3t  in 
a  bed  since  I  began  the  journey." 

8.  Here  my  self-support  gave  way  all  at  once ;  and  with 
a  movement  of  my  hands,  intended  to  show  her  my  ragged 
state,  and  call  it  to  witness  that  I  had  suffered  something, 
I  broke  into  a  passion  of  crying,  which  I  suppose  had  been 
pent  up  within  me  all  the  week. 

9.  My  aunt,  with  every  sort  of  expression  but  wonder 
discharged  from  her  countenance,  sat  on  the  gravel  star- 
ing at  me,  until  I  began  to  cry.  Then  she  got  up  in  a  great 
hurry,  collared  me  and  took  me  into  the  parlor.  Her  first 
proceeding  there  was  to  unlock  a  tall  press,  bring  out 
several  bottles  and  pour  some  of  the  contents  of  each  into 
my  mouth.  I  think  they  must  have  been  taken  out  at  ran- 
dom, for  I  am  sure  I  tasted  anise-seed  water,  anchovy 
sauce,  and  salad  dressing. 

10.  When  she  had  administered  these  restoratives,  as 
I  was  still  quite  hysterical  and  unable  to  control  my  sobs, 
she  put  me  on  the  sofa,  with  a  shawl  under  my  head  and 
the  handkerchief  from  her  own  head  under  my  feet,  for 
fear  I  should  sully  the  cover.  Then  sitting  herself  down 
behind  the  green  fan  I  have  already  mentioned,  so  that  I 
could  not  see  her  face,  she  ejaculated  at  intervals,  "  Mercy 
on  us ! " —  letting  these  exclamations  off  like  minute-guns. 

11.  After  a  time  she  rang  the  bell.    "  Janet,''  said  my 


THE    CRANE    FOURTH    READER. 


315 


aunt,  when  her  servant  came  in,  "  go  upstairs,  give  my 
compliments  to  Mr.  Dick,  and  say  I  wish  to  speak  to  liim." 
Janet  looked  a  little  surprised  to  see  me  lying  stiffly  on 
the  sofa,  (I  was  afraid  to  move  lest  it  should  be  displeasing 
to  my  aunt,)  but  went  on  her  errand.  My  aunt,  with  her 
hands  behind  her,  walked  up  and  down  the  room  until  the 
gentleman  who  had  squinted  at  me  from  the  upper  window 
came  in,  laughing. 

12.  "  Mr.  Dick,"  said  my  aunt,  "  don't  be  a  fool,  because 
nobody  can  be  more  discreet  than  you  can  when  you  choose. 
We  all  know  that.    So  don't  be  a  fool,  whatever  you  are." 

The  gentleman  was  serious  immediately,  and  looked  at 
me,  I  thought,  as  if  he  would  entreat  me  to  say  nothing 
about  the  window. 

"  Mr.  Dick,"  said  my  aunt,  "  you  have  heard  me  mention 
David  Copperfield  f  Now  don't  pretend  not  to  have  a 
memory,  because  you  and  I  know  better." 

13.  "  David  Copperfield  ? "  said  Mr.  Dick,  who  did  not 
appear  to  me  to  remember  much  about  it.  ^^  David  Cop- 
perfield?   Oh,  yes,  to  be  sure;  David,  certainly." 

''Well,"  said  my  aunt,  "this  is  his  boy  —  his  son.  He 
would  be  as  like  his  father  as  it's  possible  to  be,  if  he 
was  not  so  like  his  mother,  too." 

"  His  son  ? "  said  Mr.  Dick.    "  David's  son,  indeed ! " 

14.  "  Yes,"  pursued  my  aunt,  ''  and  he  has  done  a  pretty 
piece  of  business.  He  has  run  away.  Ah!  His  sister, 
Betsy  Trotwood,  would  never  have  run  away." 

My  aunt  shook  her  head  firmly,  sure  of  the  character 
and  behavior  of  the  girl  who  never  was  born. 

"Oh!  you  think  she  wouldn't  have  run  away?"  said 
Mr.  Dick. 


316  THE    CRANE    FOURTH    READER. 

15.  "Bless  and  save  the  man!"  exclaimed  my  aunt, 
sharply,  '^how  he  talks.  Don't  I  know  she  would  noti 
She  would  have  lived  with  her  godmother,  and  we  should 
have  been  devoted  to  one  another.  Where,  in  the  name 
of  wonder,  should  his  sister,  Betsy  Trotwood,  have  run 
from  or  to  V 

"  Nowhere,"  said  Mr.  Dick. 

16.  "Well,  then,"  returned  my  aunt,  softened  by  the 
reply,  "how  can  you  pretend  to  be  wool-gathering,  Dick, 
when  you  are  as  sharp  as  a  surgeon's  lancet?  Now,  here 
you  see  young  David  Copperfield,  and  the  question  I  put 
to  you  is.  What  shall  I  do  with  him  1 " 

"  What  shall  you  do  with  him ! "  said  Mr.  Dick,  feebly 
scratching  his  head.    "Oh!  do  with  him?" 

17.  "Yes,"  said  my  aunt,  with  a  grave  look,  and  her 
forefinger  held  up.  "Come!  I  want  some  very  sound 
advice." 

"Why,  if  I  were  you,"  said  Mr.  Dick,  considering  and 
looking  vacantly  at  me,  "I  should  — "  The  contempla- 
tion of  me  seemed  to  inspire  him  with  a  sudden  idea,  and 
he  added  briskly,  "I  should  wash  him!" 

"  Janet,"  said  my  aunt,  turning  round  with  a  quiet  tri- 
umph, which  I  did  not  then  understand,  "Mr.  Dick  sets 
us  all  right.    Heat  the  bath ! " 

Charles  Dickens. 


Nature  gives  to  every  time  and  season  some  beauties  of  its  own;  and 
from  morning  to  night,  as  from  the  cradle  to  the  grave,  is  but  a  succession 
of  changes  so  gentle  and  easy  that  we  can  scarcely  mark  their  progress. — 
Dickens. 


THE    CRANE   FOUETH   READER. 


317 


mas^sa  ere  (ker) 
eti'po  la 
gi^ard^room  ^ 
reg^i  ments 


LESSO:tT  CYI. 

seiif'fle 

in  Qi  YiYi  if 

charienge 

bar^racks 


haugJi' ti  ly 
ed^i  fiQ  e§ 
un  €011  troria  ble 
ree  on  gil  i  action 


THE    BOSTON    MASSACRE. 

1.  It  was  now  the  3d  of  March,  1770.  The  sunset  music 
of  the  British  regiments  was  heard,  as  usual,  throughout 
the  town.  The  shrill  fife  and  rattling  drum  awoke  the 
echoes  in  King  street,  while  the  last  ray  of  sunshine  was 
lingering  on  the  cupola  of  the  town-house.  And  now  all 
the  sentinels  were  posted.  One  of  them  marched  up  and 
down  before  the  custom-house,  treading  a  short  path 
through  the  snow,  and  longing  for  the  time  when  he  would 
be  dismissed  to  the  warm  fireside  of  the  guardroom. 

2.  In  the  course  of  the  evening  there  were  two  or  three 
slight  commotions,  which  seemed  to  indicate  that  trouble 
was  at  hand.  Small  parties  of  young  men  stood  at  the 
corners  of  the  streets,  or  walked  along  the  narrow  pave- 
ments. Squads  of  soldiers,  who  were  dismissed  from 
duty,  passed  by  them,  shoulder  to  shoulder,  with  the  regu- 
lar step  which  they  had  learned  at  the  drill.  Whenever 
these  encounters  took  place,  it  appeared  to  be  the  object 
of  the  young  men  to  treat  the  soldiers  with  as  much  in- 
civility as  possible. 

3.  "  Turn  out,  you  lobster-backs ! ''  one  would  say. 
"Crowd  them  off  the  sidewalks!"  another  would  cry. 
"  A  redcoat  has  no  right  in  Boston  streets.''  "  0,  you  rebel 
rascals ! ''  perhaps  the  soldiers  would  reply,  glaring  fiercely 


318  THE    CRANE    FOURTH    READER. 

at  the  young  men,  "  some  day  or  other  we  '11  make  our  way 
through  Boston  streets  at  the  point  of  the  bayonet ! " 

4.  Once  or  twice  such  disputes  as  these  brought  on  a 
scuffle,  which  passed  off,  however,  without  attracting  much 
notice.  About  eight  o'clock,  for  some  unknown  cause,  an 
alarm-bell  rang  loudly  and  hurriedly.  At  the  sound,  many 
people  ran  out  of  their  houses,  supposing  it  to  be  an  alarm 
of  fire.  But  there  were  no  flames  to  be  seen,  nor  was  there 
any  smell  of  smoke  in  the  clear,  frosty  air;  so  that  most 
of  the  townsmen  went  back  to  their  firesides.  Others,  who 
were  younger  and  less  prudent,  remained  in  the  streets. 

5.  Later  in  the  evening,  not  far  from  nine  o'clock,  sev- 
eral young  men  passed  down  King  street,  toward  the 
custom-house.  When  they  drew  near  the  sentinel,  he  halted 
on  his  post,  and  took  his  musket  from  his  shoulder,  ready 
to  present  the  bayonet  at  their  breasts.  "Who  goes 
there  1 '.'  he  cried,  in  the  gruff  tones  of  a  soldier's  challenge. 
The  young  men,  being  Boston  boys,  felt  as  if  they  had  a 
right  to  walk  in  their  own  streets  without  being  accounta- 
ble to  a  British  redcoat.  They  made  some  rude  answer  to 
the  sentinel.  There  was  a  dispute,  or  perhaps  a  scuffle. 
Other  soldiers  heard  the  noise,  and  ran  hastily  from  the 
barracks  to  assist  their  comrade. 

6.  At  the  same  time  many  of  the  townspeople  rushed 
into  King  street  by  various  avenues,  and  gathered  in  a 
crowd  about  the  custom-house.  It  seemed  wonderful  how 
such  a  multitude  had  started  up  all  of  a  sudden.  The 
wrongs  and  insults  which  the  people  had  been  suffering 
for  many  months  now  kindled  them  into  a  rage.  They 
threw  snowballs  and  lumps  of  ice  at  the  soldiers.  As  the 
tumult  grew  louder,  it  reached  the  ears  of  Captain  Preston, 


THE    CRANE   FOUETH   READER. 


319 


the  officer  of  the  day.  He  immediately  ordered  eight  sol- 
diers of  the  main  guard  to  take  their  muskets  and  follow 
him.  They  marched  across  the  street,  forcing  their  way 
roughly  through  the  crowd  with  their  bayonets. 

7.  A  gentleman  (it  was  Henry  Knox,  afterward  general 
of  the  American  artillery)  caught  Captain  Preston's  arm. 
"  For  Heaven's  sake,  sir,"  exclaimed  he,  ''  take  heed  what 
you  do,  or  there  will  be  bloodshed ! "  ''  Stand  aside ! " 
answered  Captain  Preston,  haughtily ;  "  do  not  interfere, 
sir.  Leave  me  to  manage  the  affair."  Arriving  at  the 
sentinel's  post,  Captain  Preston  drew  up  his  men  in  a  semi- 
circle, with  their  faces  to  the  crowd.  Wlien  the  people  saw 
the  officer,  and  beheld  the  threatening  attitude  with  which 
the  soldiers  fronted  them,  their  rage  became  almost  un- 
controllable. 

8.  "Fire,  you  lobster-backs!"  bellowed  some.  "You 
dare  not  fire,  you  cowardly  redcoats!"  cried  others. 
"Rush  upon  them!"  shouted  many  voices.  "Drive  the 
rascals  to  their  barracks !  Down  with  them !  Down  with 
them!  Let  them  fire,  if  they  dare!"  Amid  the  uproar, 
the  soldiers  stood  glaring  at  the  people  with  the  fierceness 
of  men  whose  trade  is  to  shed  blood. 

9.  Oh,  what  a  crisis  had  now  arrived !  Up  to  this  very 
moment,  the  angry  feelings  between  England  and  America 
might  have  been  pacified.  England  had  but  to  stretch  out 
the  hand  of  reconciliation,  and  aclmowledge  that  she  had 
hitherto  mistaken  her  rights,  and  would  do  so  no  more. 
Then  the  ancient  bonds  of  brotherhood  would  again  have 
been  knit  together  as  firmly  as  in  old  times.  But,  should 
the  king's  soldiers  shed  one  drop  of  American  blood,  then 
it  was  a  quarrel  to  the  death.    Never,  never  would  America 


320  THE    CRANE    FOURTH   READER. 

rest  satisfied  until  she  had  torn  down  royal  authority,  and 
trampled  it  in  the  dust. 

10.  "  Fire,  if  you  dare,  villains ! "  hoarsely  shouted  the 
people,  while  the  muzzles  of  the  muskets  were  turned  upon 
them ;  "  you  dare  not  fire ! "  They  appeared  ready  to  rush 
upon  the  leveled  bayonets.  Captain  Preston  waved  his 
sword,  and  uttered  a  command  which  could  not  be  dis- 
tinctly heard  amid  the  uproar  of  shouts  that  issued  from  a 
hundred  throats.  But  his  soldiers  deemed  that  he  had 
spoken  the  fatal  mandate, ''  Fire ! "  The  flash  of  their  mus- 
kets lighted  up  the  street,  and  the  report  rang  loudly  be- 
tween the  edifices. 

11.  A  gush  of  smoke  overspread  the  scene.  It  rose 
heavily,  as  if  loth  to  reveal  the  dreadful  spectacle  beneath 
it.  Eleven  of  the  sons  of  New  England  lay  stretched  upon 
the  street.  Some,  sorely  wounded,  were  struggling  to  rise 
again.  Others  stirred  not,  nor  groaned,  for  they  were  past 
all  pain.  Blood  was  streaming  upon  the  snow;  and  that 
purple  stain,  in  the  midst  of  King  street,  though  it  melted 
away  in  the  next  day's  sun,  was  never  forgotten  or  for- 
given by  the  people. 

Nathaniel   Hawthorne. 

What  incident  occurred  at  eight  o'clock? 

What  took  place  later  in  the  evening? 

Captain  Preston  gave  what  orders? 

What  action  of  Henry  Knox? 

What  directly  caused  the  soldiers  to  fire  on  the  people? 

Give  the  result  of  the  massacre. 

Note. —  Require  the  pupils  to  examine  the  different  histories  in  regard 
to  this  account,  asking  them  as  to  their  opinions  of  the  justness  of  the 
American  cause. 


THE    CRANE   FOURTH   READER. 


321 


stiffened 
punch^eong 
pat^ron  iz  ing 
mag  nif^i  Qent 


LESSOR   CYIL 

ghiv^al  r^  €6m^pas5 

ja^n^ty  hatgh^et 

ven^ture  some  paKi  sade 

pam^phlets  ean^m  bal§ 

RAIN  IN  THE  GARRET. 


Donald  Grant  Mitchell  (1822),  a  writer  of  grace  and  charm,  is  a 
native  of  Connecticut.  He  graduated  at  Yale  College,  and  studied  law  and 
was  admitted  to  the  bar.  His  pen-name  is  "  Ik  Marvel."  His  best-known 
books  are  Dream  Life  and  The  Reveries  of  a  Bachelor,  although  he  has  pro- 
duced many  other  delightful  works. 

1.  It  is  an  old  garret  with  big  brown  rafters,  and  the 
boards  between  are  stained  with  the  rainstorms  of  fifty 
years.  And  as  the  sportive  April  shower  quickens  its  flood, 
it  seems  as  if  its  torrents  would  come  dashing  through  the 
shingles  upon  you  and  upon  your  play.  But  it  will  not,  for 
you  know  that  the  old  roof  is  strong. 

You  love  that  old  garret  roof,  and  you  nestle  down  under 
its  slope  with  a  sense  of  its  protecting  power  that  no  castle 
walls  can  give  to  your  maturer  years. 

It  seems  a  grand  old  place,  and  it  is  capital  fun  to  search 
in  its  corners  and  drag  out  some  bit  of  quaint  old  furniture 
with  a  leg  broken,  and  lay  a  cushion  across  it,  and  fix  your 
reins  upon  the  lion's  claws  of  the  feet,  and  then  —  gallop 
away! 

And  you  offer  sister  Nelly  a  chance  if  she  will  be  good ; 
and  throw  out  very  patronizing  words  to  little  Charlie,  who 
is  mounted  upon  a  much  humbler  horse, —  as  he  of  right 
should  be,  since  he  is  three  years  your  junior. 

2.  I  know  no  nobler  forage-ground  for  a  romantic,  ven- 
turesome, mischievous  boy  than  the  garret  of  an  old  family 


S2^  THE  CRAITE  FOURTH  EEADER. 

mansion  on  a  day  of  storm.  It  is  a  perfect  field  of  chiv- 
alry. 

The  heavy  rafters,  the  dashing  rain,  the  piles  of  spare 
mattresses  to  carouse  upon,  the  big  trunks  to  hide  in,  the 
old  white  coats  and  hats  hanging  in  obscure  corners  like 
ghosts — =are  great! 

There  is  great  fun  in  groping  through  a  tall  barrel  of 
books  and  pamphlets,  on  the  lookout  for  startling  pictures ; 
and  there  are  chestnuts  in  the  garret,  drying,  which  you 
have  discovered  on  a  ledge  of  the  chimney,  and  you  slide  a 
few  into  your  pocket  and  munch  them  quietly, —  giving 
now  and  then  one  to  Nelly  and  begging  her  to  keep  silent, 
for  you  have  a  great  fear  of  its  being  forbidden  fruit. 

3.  But  you  grow  tired  of  this;  you  tire  even  of  the 
swing  and  of  the  pranks  of  Charlie,  and  you  glide  away 
into  a  corner  with  an  old  dog-eared  copy  of  "Robinson 
Crusoe." 

And  you  grow  heart  and  soul  into  the  story,  until  you 
tremble  for  the  poor  fellow  with  his  guns  behind  the  pal- 
isade, and  are  yourself  half  dead  with  fright  when  you 
peep  cautiously  over  the  hill  with  your  glass  and  see  the 
cannibals  around  the  fire. 

Yet,  after  all,  you  think  the  old  fellow  must  have  had  a 
capital  time  with  a  whole  island  to  himself ;  and  you  think 
you  would  like  such  a  time  yourself,  if  only  Nelly  and 
Charlie  could  be  there  with  you. 

But  this  thought  does  not  come  till  afterward;  for  the 
time  you  are  nothing  but  Crusoe  —  you  are  living  in  his 
cave  with  Poll  the  parrot,  and  are  looking  out  for  your 
goats  and  man  Friday. 

4.  You  dream  what  a  nice  thing  it  would  be  for  you  to 


THE    CRANE    FOURTH   READER.  323 

slip  away  some  pleasant  morning  —  not  to  York,  as  young 
Crusoe  did,  but  to  New  York  —  and  take  passage  as  a 
sailor ;  and  how,  if  they  knew  you  were  going,  there  would 
be  such  a  world  of  good-bys,  and  how,  if  they  did  not  know 
it,  there  would  be  such  a  world  of  wonder ! 

And  then  the  sailor's  dress  would  be  altogether  such  a 
jaunty  affair,  and  it  would  be  such  rare  sport  to  lie  off 
upon  the  yards  far  aloft,  as  you  have  seen  sailors  in  pic- 
tures looking  out  upon  the  blue  and  tumbling  sea. 

No  thought  now  in  your  boyish  dreams  of  sleety  storms 
and  cables  stiffened  with  ice  and  crashing  spars  and  great 
icebergs  towering  fearfully  around  you! 

5.  You  would  have  better  luck  than  even  Crusoe ;  you 
would  save  a  compass  and  a  Bible  and  stores  of  hatchets 
and  the  captain's  dog  and  great  puncheons  of  sweetmeats 
(which  Crusoe  altogether  overlooked) ;  and  you  would  save 
a  tent  or  two,  which  you  could  set  up  on  the  shore,  and  an 
American  flag  and  a  small  piece  of  cannon,  which  you  could 
fire  as  often  as  you  liked. 

At  night  you  would  sleep  in  a  tree  —  though  you  wonder 
how  Crusoe  did  it  —  and  would  say  the  prayers  you  had 
been  taught  to  say  at  home,  and  fall  to  sleep,  dreaming  of 
Nelly  and  Charlie. 

6.  At  sunrise,  or  thereabouts,  you  would  come  down, 
feeling  very  much  refreshed,  and  make  a  very  nice  break- 
fast off  of  smoked  herring  and  sea-bread  with  a  little  cur- 
rant jam  and  a  few  oranges.  After  this  you  would  haul 
ashore  a  chest  or  two  of  the  sailor's  clothes,  and,  putting 
a  few  large  jackknives  in  your  pocket,  would  take  a  stroll 
over  the  island  and  dig  a  cave  somewhere  and  roll  in  a  cask 
or  two  of  sea-bread. 

And  you  fancy  yourself  growing  after  a  time  very  tall 


BU 


THE    CRANE    FOURTH   READER. 


and  wearing  a  magnificent  goatskin  cap  trimmed  with 
green  ribbons  and  set  off  with  a  plume.  You  think  you 
would  have  put  a  few  more  guns  in  than  Crusoe  did  and 
charged  them  with  a  little  more  grape. 

7.  After  a  long  while,  you  fancy,  a  ship  would  arrive 
which  would  carry  you  back,  and  you  count  upon  very 
great  surprise  on  the  part  of  your  father  and  little  Nelly 
as  you  march  up  to  the  door  of  the  old  family  mansion 
with  plenty  of  gold  in  your  pocket  and  a  small  bag  of 
cocoanuts  for  Charlie,  and  with  a  great  deal  of  pleasant 
talk  about  your  island  far  away  in  the  south  seas. 

And  so,  with  your  head  upon  your  hand,  in  your  quiet 
garret  corner,  over  some  such  beguiling  story,  your 
thought  leans  away  from  the  book  into  your  own  dreamy 
cruise  over  the  sea  of  life. 

Donald  Grant  Mitchell. 


re€  ol  lee'tiong 
bra  vu^ra§ 
sur  Yey' 
an  geri€ 

LESSON  CVIII. 
hti'mid 

siib  dued' 
de  If  cious 

sphere's 
ser^aph 
se  rene' 
cher'iib 

COATES    KINNEY. 


RAIN   ON   THE   ROOF. 

CoATES  Kinney  (1826)  was  born  at  Penn 
Yan,  New  York,  and  has  been  successively  a 
teacher,  a  journalist,  and  a  lawyer.  His  best- 
known  poem  is  Rain  on  the  Roof, 

1.  When  the  humid  shadows  hover 
Over  all  the  starry  spheres, 
And  the  melancholy  darkness 
Gently  weeps  in  rainy  tears. 


THE    CRANE    FOURTH    READER.  325 

What  a  joy  to  press  the  pillow 

Of  a  cottage-chamber  bed, 
And  to  listen  to  the  patter 

Of  the  soft  rain  overhead! 

2.  Every  tinkle  on  the  shingles 

Has  an  echo  in  the  heart; 
And  a  thousand  dreamy  fancies 

Into  busy  being  start, 
And  a  thousand  recollections 

Weave  their  bright  hues  into  woof, 
As  I  listen  to  the  patter 

Of  the  rain  upon  the  roof. 

3.  Now  in  fancy  comes  my  mother, 

As  she  used  to,  years  agone. 
To  survey  her  darling  dreamers 

Ere  she  left  them  till  the  dawn; 
0 !  I  see  her  bending  o'er  me 

As  I  list  to  this  refrain, 
Which  is  played  upon  the  shingles 

By  the  patter  of  the  rain. 

4.  Then  my  little  seraph  sister. 

With  her  wings  and  waving  hair. 
And  her  bright-eyed  cherub  brother  — 

A  serene,  angelic  pair !  — 
Glide  around  my  wakeful  pillow. 

With  their  praise  or  mild  reproof, 
As  I  listen  to  the  murmur 

Of  the  soft  rain  on  the  roof. 


326  THE    CRANE    FOURTH    READER. 

5.  And  another  comes  to  thrill  me 

With  her  eye's  delicious  blue ; 
And  forget  I,  gazing  on  her, 

That  her  heart  was  all  untrue ; 
I  remember,  but  to  love  her 

With  a  rapture  kin  to  pain. 
And  my  heart's  quick  pulses  vibrate 

To  the  patter  of  the  rain. 

6.  There  is  naught  in  art's  bravuras 

That  can  work  with  such  a  spell 
In  the  spirit's  pure,  deep  fountains, 

Whence  the  holy  passions  well. 
As  that  melody  of  nature. 

That  subdued,  subduing  strain. 
Which  is  played  upon  the  shingles 

By  the  patter  of  the  rain. 


CoATES  Kinney. 


LESSOJSr  CIX. 

€am^e  ra  souve  nir  (soov  nerO  rollick  mg 

ean^o  pied  eon  templu  oils  fascial  (shal) 

MEMORY'S  BIG  PHOTOGRAPH  ALBUM. 

1.  The  photographer  adjusts  his  camera  so  as  to  focus 
the  rays  of  light  to  the  best  advantage,  sees  that  your 
pose  is  just  right,  gets  ready  for  the  final  flash,  and  says, 
'^Look  pleasant,  please." 

2.  You  try  your  best  to  obey,  because  you  know  that  the 
instrument  will  make  an  exact  reproduction  of  your  facial 
expression  at  the  time,  and  you  want  a  picture  you  will  be 


THE    CEANE    FOURTH   HEADER.  327 

pleased  to  preserve,  and  one  you  will  not  be  ashamed  to 
present  as  a  souvenir  to  a  friend. 

3.  But  did  it  never  occur  to  you  that  you  are  being 
photographed  every  day  more  accurately  than  any  hmnan 
artist  can  do  it,  and  that  you  are  leaving  these  pictures  in 
the  perpetual  possession  of  those  very  friends  you  are  so 
anxious  to  please! 

4.  And  did  you  never  reflect  that  not  only  your  friends 
but  also  all  with  whom  you  come  in  contact,  have,  hanging 
on  the  walls  of  their  memory,  ''  snap  shots  "  of  you  in  your 
daily  life  I  How  would  you  like  to  be  ushered  into  some 
of  these  galleries  of  memory  and  there  behold  your  photo- 
graph with  that  contemptuous  curl  of  the  lip,  or  that  mis- 
erable snarl  of  countenance,  or  that  scowl  of  anger,  or  that 
face  of  shame! 

5.  Of  little  relative  importance  are  those  perishable 
pasteboard  photographs  compared  with  these  pictures 
hanging  on  the  walls  of  memory !  I  've  been  thinking  that 
in  rosy  sunrise  and  golden  sunset,  in  babbling  brook  and 
rollicking  rivulet,  in  glimmering  prairie  and  majestic 
mountain,  in  lovely  landscape  "canopied  with  golden 
clouds,''  in  song  of  bird  and  bloom  of  flower,  in  all  his 
handiwork  as  well  as  in  his  Book  of  books,  the  great  Artist, 
as  He  adjusts  his  unerring  camera  and  proceeds  to  photo- 
graph his  creatures  upon  the  imperishable  tablets  of  im- 
mortal memory,  is  saying  through  all  these  works  and 
words  —  "Look  pleasant,  please." 

Edward   W.   Hoch. 


328  THE   CEANE   FOURTH   READER. 


lesso:n  ex. . 

shifting  marine  w;hok's6me 

told'smith  daz'zling  tex^ture 

llveli  hdbd  un  ho'l^  in  hermit  ange 

THE   KING  OF  THE   GOLDEN    RIVER. 

PART  I. 

John  Ruskin  (1819-1900)  was  an  Englishman.  He  was  a  lover  of  art. 
He  was  also  a  student  of  labor  questions.  He  had  great  sympathy  for  the 
working  classes  and  did  much  to  better  their  conditions.  He  was  the  author 
of  many  works  on  art.  Among  them  are  Stones  of  Venice  and  Modern 
Painters. 

1.  In  a  little  valley  in  the  mountain-land  of  Styria  there 
once  lived  three  brothers,  Schwartz,  Hans,  and  Gluck. 
Schwartz  and  Hans,  the  two  elder  brothers,  were  very 
ugly  men,  with  overhanging  eyebrows  and  small,  dull  eyes, 
so  that  you  couldn't  see  into  them  although  you  always 
fancied  that  they  saw  very  far  into  you.  They  lived  by 
farming  —  and  very  good  farmers  they  were,  in  their 
way.  ' 

2.  They  killed  everything  that  did  not  pay  for  its  eating : 
they  shot  the  robins  because  they  pecked  the  fruit;  they 
poisoned  the  crickets  for  eating  the  crumbs  in  their  kitchen ; 
and  they  smothered  the  cicadas  which  used  to  sing  all 
summer  long  in  the  poplar  trees.  They  worked  their 
servants  without  any  wages,  till  they  would  not  work  any 
more,  and  then  quarreled  with  them  and  turned  them  out 
of  doors  without  paying  them. 

3.  It  would  be  very  odd  if,  with  such  a  farm  and  such  a 
system  of  farming,  they  hadn't  got  very  rich;  and  very 
rich  they  did  get.    They  generally  managed  to  keep  their 


THE    CKANE    FOURTH    READER. 


329 


corn  by  them  till  it  was  very  dear,  and  then  sell  it  for 
twice  its  value;  they  had  heaps  of  gold  lying  about  on 
their  floors,  yet  it  was  never  known  that  they  had  given 
so  much  as  a  penny  or  a  crust  in  charity.  They  were, 
indeed,  of  so  selfish  and  grinding  a  temper  that  they  were 
known  throughout  all  that  country  as  the  ''Black  Brothers." 

4.  The  youngest  brother,  Gluck,  was  as  different  as  could 
be  imagined.  He  was  a  fair,  blue-eyed  boy  of  twelve 
years  of  age  —  kind  in  temper  to  every  living  thing. 
He  did  not,  of  course,  agree  particularly  well  with  his 
brothers,  or,  rather,  they  did  not  agree  with  him.  Hence 
he  was  obliged  to  do  most  of  the  work  about  the  farm- 
house—  to  attend  to  the  kitchen,  to  clean  the  shoes  and 
floors  —  and  for  his  pay  he  usually  got  a  wholesome  quan- 
tity of  hard  blows,  by  way  of  education. 

5.  But  by-and-by  a  change  came  over  the  valley,  and 
the  hard  selfishness  of  the  two  elder  brothers  received  its 
due  reward.  No  rain  fell  on  their  fields  from  one  year's 
end  to  another.  Though  everything  was  still  green  and 
flourishing  in  the  plains  below,  the  inheritance  of  the 
three  brothers  was  a  desert.  What  had  once  been  the 
richest  soil  in  the  kingdom  became  a  shifting  heap  of  red 
sand;  and  the  brothers  were  obliged  to  leave  the  valley 
and  seek  some  means  of  gaining  a  livelihood  among  the 
cities  and  people  of  the  plains. 

6.  All  their  money  was  gone,  and  they  had  nothing  left 
but  some  old-fashioned  pieces  of  gold  plate,  the  last  of 
their  ill-gotten  wealth. 

"  Let  us  turn  goldsmiths,"  said  Schwartz  to  Hans.  ^'  It 
is  a  good  trade;  and  we  can  put  a  great  deal  of  copper 
into  the  gold  without  anyone  finding  it  out." 


II 


330  THE    CRANE   FOURTH   READER. 


So  they  hired  a  furnace,  and  turned  goldsmiths.  But 
the  people  did  not  like  the  coppered  gold,  nor  the  drunken 
habits  of  the  two  elder  brothers ;  and  so  all  the  gold  plate 
was  melted  without  bringing  in  enough  money  to  buy 
more. 

7.  At  last  there  was  left  only  one  large  drinking-mug 
which  an  uncle  of  his  had  given  to  little  Gluck,  and  of 
which  he  was  very  fond.  When  it  came  to  this  mug's 
turn  to  be  made  into  spoons,  it  half  broke  poor  little 
Gluck's  heart;  but  the  brothers  only  laughed  at  him, 
tossed  the  mug  into  the  melting-pot,  and  staggered  out  to 
the  ale-house  for  a  drink ;  leaving  him,  as  usual,  to  pour 
the  gold  into  bars  when  it  was  all  ready. 

8.  But,  strange  to  say,  no  sooner  had  the  mug  been 
melted  ready  for  pouring  out,  than  there  stepped  out  of 
the  melting-pot  a  little  golden  dwarf,  about  a  foot  and  a 
half  high.  He  was  dressed  in  a  slashed  doublet  of  spun 
gold,  so  fine  in  its  texture  that  the  rainbow  colors  gleamed 
over  it,  as  if  on  a  surface  of  mother-of-pearl;  and  over 
this  brilliant  doublet  his  hair  and  beard  fell  full  half-way 
to  the  ground,  in  waving  curls,  so  delicate  that  Gluck  could 
hardly  tell  where  they  ended;  they  seemed  to  melt  into 
the  air. 

9.  "  I,"  said  the  little  man,  "  am  the  King  of  the  Golden 
River,  that  mountain-stream  which  pours  its  waters  into 
the  valley  above  us  yonder.  I  have  been  imprisoned  in 
your  drinking-mug  because  of  the  malice  of  a  stronger 
king,  from  whose  enchantments  you  have  set  me  free. 
What  I  have  seen  of  you,  and  your  conduct  to  your  wicked 
brothers,  makes  me  feel  willing  to  serve  you;  therefore, 
listen  to  what  I  tell  you.    ^Hioever  shall  climb  to  the  top 


THE    CRANE    FOURTH    READER. 


331 


of  that  mountain  from  which  the  Golden  River  flows,  and 
shall  cast  into  the  stream  three  drops  of  holy  water,  for 
him,  and  for  him  only,  the  river  shall  tnrn  to  gold.  But 
no  one  failing  in  his  first,  can  succeed  in  a  second  attempt ; 
and  if  anyone  shall  cast  unholy  water  into  the  river,  it 
will  overwhelm  him,  and  he  will  become  a  black  stone." 

10.  So  saying,  the  King  of  the  Golden  River  turned 
away,  and  walked  into  the  center  of  the  hottest  flame  of 
the  furnace.  His  figure  became  red,  white,  transparent, 
dazzling  —  then  rose,  trembled,  and  disappeared. 


LESSON  CXI. 


el  e  va'tion 
wist'ful  1^ 
€M§m§ 


w       /w 

pan  le, 


pre  tense' 
mock'er  f 


mag'is  trate 

al'pine 

e^'it 


THE   KING  OF  THE   GOLDEN    RIVER. 

PART  II. 

1.  The  King  of  the  Golden  River  had  hardly  made  his 
strange  exit,  before  Hans  and  Schwartz  came  roaring  into 
the  house,  savagely  drunk.  The  discovery  of  the  entire 
loss  of  their  last  piece  of  plate  sobered  them  just  enough 
to  enable  them  to  give  Gluck  a  most  terrible  beating. 
When  they  had  become  altogether  exhausted,  they  stopped 
and  requested  to  know  what  he  had  got  to  say  for  himself. 
Gluck  told  them  his  story;  but,  pretending  not  to  believe 
a  word  of  it,  they  beat  him  again  till  their  arms  were 
tired,  and  then  staggered  to  bed. 

2.  In  the  morning  the  two  brothers  began  to  dispute  re- 
garding the  question  as  to  which  one  of  them  should  try 


332  THE    CEANE    FOLTKTH   KEADER. 

his  fortune  first  by  making  a  journey  to  the  Golden  River. 
The  quarrel  became  so  furious  that  an  officer,  hearing  them, 
came  in  and  arrested  Schwartz  and  carried  him  before  a 
magistrate,  who  sent  him  to  prison  until  he  could  pay  his 
fine  for  disturbing  the  peace'.  Hans,  who  had  adroitly 
escaped,  resolved  to  set  out  at  once  for  the  Golden  River. 
How  to  get  the  holy  water  was  the  question.  He  went  to 
the  priest,  but  the  priest  would  not  give  any  holy  water 
to  so  bad  a  man  as  he.  So  Hans  went  to  church  in  the 
evening  for  the  first  time  in  his  life,  and,  under  pretense 
of  crossing  himself,  stole  a  cupful  and  returned  home  in 
triumph. 

3.  Next  morning,  before  the  sun  rose,  he  put  the  holy 
water  into  a  strong  flask,  and  two  bottles  of  wine  and 
some  meat  in  a  basket,  slung  them  over  his  back,  took  his 
alpine  staff  in  his  hand,  and  set  off  for  the  mountains. 
It  was,  indeed,  a  morning  that  might  have  made  anyone 
happy,  even  with  no  Golden  River  to  seek  for.  Level  lines 
of  dewy  mist  lay  stretched  along  the  valley,  out  of  which 
rose  the  massy  mountains.  The  lower  cliffs  were  like 
pale,  gray  shadows,  hardly  to  be  distinguished  from  the 
floating  vapor;  but  higher  up  they  caught  the  sunlight, 
which  ran  in  sharp  touches  of  ruddy  color  along  the 
sharp  crags,  and  pierced,  in  long  level  rays,  through  their 
fringes  of  spear-like  pine. 

4.  The  Golden  River,  which  sprang  from  one  of  the 
lower  and  snowless  elevations,  was  now  nearly  in  shadow ; 
all  but  the  uppermost  jets  of  spray,  which  rose  like  slow 
smoke  above  a  golden  waterfall,  and  floated  away  in  feeble 
wreaths  upon  the  morning  wind. 

5.  On  reaching  the  top  of  the  first  range  of  green  and 


THE    CRAKE   FOURTH   READER.  333 

low  hills,  Hans  saw  to  his  surprise  that  a  large  glacier  lay 
between  him  and  the  Golden  River.  This  he  crossed  with 
the  greatest  difficulty.  The  ice  crashed  and  yawned  into 
chasms  at  his  feet,  tottering  spires  nodded  around  him, 
and  fell  thundering  across  his  path;  and  it  was  with  a 
feeling  of  panic  and  terror  that  he  leaped  the  last  chasm, 
and  flung  himself  exhausted  on  the  firm  turf  of  the  moun- 
tain. 

6.  After  an  hour's  rest  he  again  began  his  journey.  His 
way  lay  straight  up  a  ridge  of  bare,  red  rocks,  without  a 
blade  of  grass  to  ease  the  foot,  or  an  angle  in  which  he 
could  find  an  inch  of  shade  from  the  burning  sun.  He 
had  been  obliged  to  leave  his  basket  on  the  glacier;  and 
now  intense  thirst  was  added  to  his  fatigue ;  glance  after 
glance  he  cast  on  the  flask  of  holy  water  which  hung  at 
his  belt.  "  Three  drops  are  enough,"  he  said  at  last ; 
''  I  may,  at  least,  cool  my  lips  with  it." 

7.  He  opened  the  flask,  and  was  raising  it  to  his  lips, 
when  his  eye  fell  on  an  object  lying  on  the  rock  beside 
him.  It  was  a  small  dog  which  seemed  to  be  in  the  last 
agony  of  death  from  thirst.  Its  eyes  looked  wistfully 
at  the  bottle  which  Hans  held  in  his  hand.  He  drank, 
spurned  the  animal  with  his  foot,  and  passed  on.  The 
path  became  steeper  now;  and  the  high  hill  air,  instead 
of  refreshing  him,  seemed  to  throw  his  blood  into  a  fever. 
The  noise  of  the  waterfalls  sounded  like  mockery  in  his 
ears ;  they  were  all  far  away,  and  his  thirst  became  greater 
every  moment. 

8.  Another  hour  passed,  and  he  again  looked  down  at 
the  flask;  it  was  half  empty,  but  there  was  much  more 
than  three  drops  in  it.     He  stopped  to  drink,  and  as  he 


334  THE    CRANE    FOURTH   READER. 

did  SO,  something  moved  in  the  path  before  him.  It  was 
a  fair  child,  stretched  nearly  lifeless  on  the  rock,  its  eyes 
closed,  and  its  lips  parched  and  burning  with  thirst.  Hans 
looked  at  it,  drank,  and  passed  on.  And  a  dark  gray  cloud 
came  over  the  sun,  and  long,  snake-like  shadows  crept  up 
the  mountain-sides. 

9.  Hans  struggled  on,  and  soon  he  saw  the  cataract  of 
the  Golden  River  springing  from  the  hillside,  not  five  hun- 
dred feet  above  him.  At  that  instant  a  faint  cry  fell  on 
his  ear.  He  turned  and  saw  a  gray-haired  old  man  lying 
on  the  rocks.  His  eyes  were  sunk,  his  face  was  deadly 
pale.    "  Water ! ''  he  cried,  feebly.    "  Water !  I  am  dying ! '' 

10.  "  I  have  none,"  said  Hans ;  ^'  thou  hast  had  thy  share 
of  life."  He  strode  over  the  body  and  went  on.  And  a 
flash  of  blue  lightning  rose  out  of  the  east,  shaped  like  a 
sword;  it  shook  thrice  over  the  heaven,  and  left  it  dark. 

11.  Hans  stood  at  the  brink  of  the  chasm  through  which 
the  Golden  River  ran.  Its  waves  were  filled  with  the  red 
glory  of  the  sunset;  they  shook  their  crests  like  tongues 
of  fire,  and  flashes  of  bloody  light  gleamed  along  their 
foam.  Their  sounds  came  mightier  and  mightier  on  his 
senses;  his  brain  grew  giddy  with  the  rolling  thunder. 
He  drew  the  flask  from  his  belt,  and  hurled  it  into  the 
center  of  the  torrent.  As  he  did  so,  an  icy  chill  shot 
through  his  limbs ;  he  staggered,  shrieked,  and  fell.  The 
waters  closed  over  his  cry.  And  the  moaning  of  the  river 
rose  wildly  into  the  night,  as  it  gushed  over  a  black  stone. 

12.  When  days  passed  and  Hans  did  not  return,  poor 
little  Gluck  was  in  great  trouble.  There  was  no  bread  in 
the  house,  nor  any  money.  So  he  went  and  hired  himself 
to  another  goldsmith,  and  he  worked  so  hard  and  so  well 


THE   CRAKE   POtmTH  HEADEIt.  335 

that  lie  soon  had  money  enough  to  pay  his  brother's  fine ; 
and  he  went  and  gave  it  all  to  Schwartz,  and  Schwartz 
got  out  of  prison.  Then  Schwartz  was  pleased,  and  said 
he  should  have  some  of  the  gold  of  the  river;  but  Gluck 
only  begged  that  he  would  go  and  see  what  had  become 
of  Hans.  i  ^        i 

13.  Schwartz  thought  that  he  would  manage  better  than 
Hans,  and  so  he  took  what  was  left  of  Gluck's  money  and 
bought  some  holy  water  of  a  bad  priest  who  was  willing 
to  sell  anything  that  would  bring  him  gain.  And  he  got 
up  early  in  the  morning  before  the  sun  rose,  and  set  off 
for  the  mountains.  Like  Hans,  he  crossed  the  terrible 
glacier ;  he  saw  the  poor  dog,  and  spurned  it ;  he  refused 
to  help  the  fair  child,  lying  upon  the  rocks ;  and  to  the  old 
man,  begging  for  water,  he  said,  ''  I  have  not  half  enough 
for  myself.'' 

14.  Just  before  reaching  the  brink  of  the  river,  he 
thought  he  saw  his  brother  Hans  lying  in  the  path  be- 
fore him,  stretching  out  his  arms,  and  asking  for  water. 
"  Water,  indeed !"  said  Schwartz,  "  do  you  suppose  I  car- 
ried it  all  the  way  up  here  for  you?  "  And  he  strode  over 
the  figure,  and  passed  on. 

15.  A  sudden  horror  came  over  Schwartz.  The  waves 
of  the  Golden  River  were  black  like  thunder-clouds,  but 
their  foam  was  like  fire ;  and  the  roar  of  the  waters  below 
and  the  thunder  above  met,  as  he  cast  the  flask  into  the 
stream.  And  the  lightning  glared  in  his  eyes,  and  the 
earth  gave  way  beneath  him,  and  the  waters  closed  over 
his  cry.  And  the  moaning  of  the  river  rose  wildly  into 
the  night,  as  it  gushed  over  two  black  stones. 


THE   CEANE   FOUKTH   READEK. 

LESSON   CXII. 

whirrpool  €6rps^e§  heasVie 

Qir^^u  lar  de  filed'  mois^'ened 

pri§  mat'ie  thirst  tin  bear'a  ble 

THE   KING  OF  THE   GOLDEN    RIVER. 

PART  III. 

1.  When  Gluck  found  that  Schwartz  did  not  come  back, 
he  was  very  sorry  and  did  not  know  what  to  do.  He  had 
no  money,  and  was  obliged  to  go  and  hire  himself  again 
to  the  goldsmith.  But  after  a  month  or  two  he  grew  tired 
and  made  up  his  mind  to  go  and  try  his  fortune  with  the 
Golden  River.  "  The  little  king  looked  very  kind,"  thought 
he.  "I  don't  think  he  will  turn  me  into  a  black  stone." 
So  he  went  to  the  priest,  and  the  priest  gave  him  some 
holy  water  as  soon  as  he  asked  for  it.  Then  Gluck  took 
some  bread  in  his  basket,  and  the  bottle  of  water,  and  set 
off  very  early  for  the  mountains. 

2.  If  the  glacier  had  been  a  source  of  trouble  to  his 
brothers,  it  was  twenty  times  worse  for  him  who  was  so 
much  younger  and  weaker.  After  he  had  passed  it,  he  lay 
a  long  time  to  rest  on  the  grass,  and  began  to  climb  the 
hill  just  in  the  hottest  part  of  the  day.  Becoming  dread- 
fully thirsty,  he  was  going  to  drink  like  his  brothers, 
when  he  saw  an  old  man  coming  down  the  path  above 
him,  looking  very  feeble,  and  leaning  on  a  staff.  "My 
son,"  said  the  old  man,  "  I  am  faint  with  thirst ;  give  me 
some  water."  Then  when  Gluck  saw  that  he  was  pale 
and  weary,  he  gave  him  the  water.  "Only  pray  don't 
drink  it  all,"  said  Gluck. 


THE   CKANE   FOURTH   EEADER.  337 

3.  But  the  old  man  drank  a  great  deal,  and  gave  him 
back  the  bottle  half  empty.  And  as  Gluck  went  on  again, 
the  path  became  easier  to  his  feet,  and  two  or  three  blades 
of  grass  appeared  upon  it,  and  some  grasshoppers  began 
singing  on  the  bank  beside  it ;  and  Gluck  thought  he  had 
never  heard  such  merry  singing. 

4.  Then  he  went  on  for  another  hour,  and  his  thirst  in- 
creased so  that  he  thought  he  should  be  forced  to  drink. 
But  as  he  raised  the  flask,  he  saw  a  little  child  by  the 
roadside  crying  piteously  for  water.  Gluck  put  the  bottle 
to  the  child's  lips,  and  it  drank  all  but  a  few  drops.  Then 
it  smiled  on  him,  and  got  up  and  ran  down  the  hill,  and 
Gluck  looked  after  it  till  it  became  as  small  as  a  little 
star.  And  then  there  were  all  kinds  of  sweet  flowers 
growing  on  the  rocks,  bright  green  moss,  and  pure  white 
lilies;  and  the  sky  sent  down  such  pure  light  that  Gluck 
had  never  felt  so  happy  in  his  life. 

5.  Again  his  thirst  became  unbearable,  but  when  he 
looked  at  his  flask  there  were  only  five  or  six  drops  left, 
and  he  would  not  venture  to  drink.  At  that  moment  he 
saw  the  little  dog  lying  on  the  rocks,  gasping  for  breath  — 
just  as  Hans  and  Schwartz  had  seen  it ;  and  Gluck  stopped 
and  looked  at  it,  and  then  at  the  Golden  River,  not  five 
hundred  yards  away.  "  Poor  beastie,"  said  the  boy,  "  it  '11 
be  dead  when  I  come  down  again  if  I  don't  help  it."  Its 
eye  turned  toward  him  so  mournfully  that  he  could  not 
resist;  and  he  opened  the  flask  and  poured  all  the  water 
into  the  dog's  mouth. 

6.  A  great  change  at  once  took  place.  The  dog  van- 
ished, but  in  the  spot  where  it  had  been  stood  the  King 

—22 


338  THE   CRANE   I^OURTH   BEADEIt. 

of  the  Golden  River;  and  he  stooped  and  plucked  a  lily 
that  grew  at  his  feet.  "  The  water  which  has  been  refused 
to  the  cry  of  the  weary  and  dying/'  said  he,  ^4s  unholy, 
though  it  may  have  been  blessed  by  every  saint  in  heaven ; 
but  the  water  which  is  found  in  the  vessel  of  mercy  is 
holy,  though  it  may  have  been  defiled  with  corpses." 

7.  On  the  white  leaves  of  the  lily  there  hung  three  drops 
of  clear  dew,  and  these  the  king  shook  into  the  flask  which 
Gluck  held  in  his  hand.  "  Cast  these  into  the  river,"  he 
said,  "and  then  go  down  the  other  side  of  the  mountains 
into  Treasure  Valley."  As  he  spoke,  the  figure  of  the 
dwarf  began  to  vanish.  The  playing  colors  of  his  robe 
formed  themselves  into  a  prismatic  mist  of  dewy  light; 
he  stood  for  an  instant  veiled  with  them  as  with  the  belt 
of  a  broad  rainbow.  Then  the  colors  grew  faint,  and  the 
mist  rose  in  the  air. 

8.  And  Gluck  climbed  to  the  brink  of  the  Golden  River, 
and  its  waves  were  as  clear  as  crystal,  and  as  brilliant  as 
the  sun.  And  when  he  cast  the  three  drops  of  dew  into 
the  stream,  there  opened  where  they  fell  a  small  circular 
whirlpool  into  which  the  waters  descended  with  a  musical 
sound.  Gluck  stood  watching  it  for  some  time,  very  much 
disappointed  because  the  river  did  not  turn  into  gold.  Yet 
he  obeyed  his  friend,  the  dwarf,  and  went  down  the  other 
side  of  the  mountain  toward  the  valley  in  which  he  had 
once  lived,  and  which  was  called  Treasure  Valley ;  and  as 
he  went  he  thought  he  heard  the  noise  of  water  working 
its  way  under  the  ground.  And  when  he  came  again  in 
sight  of  Treasure  Valley,  behold  a  river,  like  the  Golden 
River  was  springing  from  a  new  cleft  of  the  rocks  above 


THE    CEANE    FOUllTH   READER.  339 

it,  and  was  flowing,  in  thousands  of  little  streams,  among 
the  dry  heaps  of  sand. 

9.  And  as  the  boy  gazed,  fresh  grass  sprung  beside  the 
new  streams,  and  creeping  plants  grew  and  climbed  among 
the  moistened  soil.  Young  flowers  opened  suddenly  along 
the  river  banks,  as  stars  leap  out  when  twilight  is  deepen- 
ing, and  thickets  of  myrtle,  and  tendrils  of  vine,  cast 
lengthening  shadows  over  the  valley  as  they  grew.  And 
thus  the  valley  became  a  garden  again,  and  the  inheritance 
which  had  been  lost  by  cruelty  was  regained  by  love. 

10.  And  Gluck  went  and  dwelt  in  the  valley,  and  the 
poor  were  never  driven  from  his  door ;  so  that  his  barns 
became  full  of  corn,  and  his  house  of  treasure.  And,  for 
him,  the  river  had  indeed  become  a  river  of  gold.  And 
to  this  day  the  people  of  that  valley  point  out  the  place 
where  the  three  drops  of  dew  were  cast  into  the  stream; 
and  at  the  top  of  the  cataract  are  still  to  be  seen  two 
BLACK  STONES,  Touud  which  the  waters  howl  mournfully 
every  day  at  sunset;  and  these  stones  are  still  called  by 
the  people  of  the  valley  the  Black  Brothers. 

John  Ruskin. 


LESSO:^  CXIII. 

HOW  SLEEP  THE   BRAVE. 

1.   How  sleep  the  brave,  who  sink  to  rest 
By  all  their  country's  wishes  blest ! 
When  spring,  with  dewy  fingers  cold. 
Returns  to  deck  their  hallowed  mold, 
She  there  shall  dress  a  sweeter  sod 
Than  fancy's  feet  have  ever  trod. 


340 


THE   CRANE   FOURTH   READER. 

By  fairy  hands  their  knell  is  rung; 
By  forms  unseen  their  dirge  is  sung; 
There  Honor  comes,  a  pilgrim  gray, 
To  bless  the  turf  that  wraps  their  clay; 
And  Freedom  shall  awhile  repair. 
To  dwell,  a  weeping  hermit,  there ! 

William  Collins. 


LESSON  CXIV. 


trophies 

as  sem^blage 


di  men'siong 
liix  ti^ri  ant 


sem  i  Qir'^u  lar  (ler) 
t^ 


pla  Qid^i 


THE   PACIFIC  OCEAN. 


Philip  Henry  Gosse  was  born  at  Worcester,  England,  in  181Q,  and 
died  in  1888.  In  1827  he  traveled  in  Canada  and  the  United  States,  and 
also  visited  Jamaica.  After  his  return  to  England  he  became  interested  in 
microscopical  research ;  and,  having  gone  to  the  sea-shore  for  his  health,  he 
wrote  A  Naturalisfs  Rambles  on  the  Devonshire  Coast.  He  is  the  author 
of  The  Aquarium:  A  Manual  of  Marine  Zoology,  and  of  numerous  other 
scientific  works.  His  writings  gained  him  admission  to  the  Royal  Societies 
in  1856'. 

1.  A  REM AKK ABLE  feature  in  the  Pacific  ocean,  and  one 
that  distinguishes  it  from  every  other  sea,  is  the  immense 
assemblage  of  small  islands  with  which  it  is  crowded,  par- 
ticularly in  the  portion  situated  between  the  tropics.  For 
about  three  thousand  miles  from  the  coast  of  South 
America  the  sea  is  almost  entirely  free  from  islands,  but 
thence  to  the  great  isles  of  India  an  immense  belt  of  ocean, 
nearly  five  thousand  miles  in  length  and  fifteen  hundred  in 
breadth,  is  so  studded  with  them  as  almost  to  be  one  con- 
tinuous archipelago. 


THE    CKANE    FOUKTH    KEADEE.  341 

2.  Tlie  term  Polynesia,  by  which  this  division  of  the 
globe  is  now  distinguished,  is  compounded  of  two  Greek 
words  signifying  many  islands.  Very  few  of  these  gems 
of  the  ocean  are  more  than  a  few  miles  in  extent,  though 
Tahiti  and  some  in  the  more  western  groups  are  of  rather 
larger  dimensions;  while  Hawaii — the  largest  island  in 
Polynesia — is  about  the  size  of  Yorkshire. 

3.  The  isles  which  in  such  vast  numbers  thus  stud  the 
bosom  of  the  Pacific  are  of  three  distinct  forms, —  the  coral, 
the  crystal,  and  the  volcanic.  Of  these,  the  first  formation 
greatly  predominates,  but  the  largest  islands  are  of  the  last 
description;  of  the  crystal  formation,  but  few  specimens 
are  known.  Imagine  a  belt  of  land  in  the  wide  ocean  not 
more  than  a  half  a  mile  in  breadth,  but  extending  in  an 
irregular  curve  to  the  length  of  ten  or  twenty  miles  or 
more,  the  height  above  the  water  not  more  than  a  yard  or 
two  at  most,  but  clothed  with  a  mass  of  the  richest  and 
most  verdant  vegetation. 

4.  Here  and  there  above  the  general  bed  of  luxuriant 
foliage  rises  a  grove  of  cocoanut  trees,  waving  their  feath- 
ery plumes  high  in  .the  air  and  gracefully  bending  their 
tall  and  slender  stems  to  the  breathing  of  the  pleasant 
tradewind.  The  grove  is  bordered  by  a  narrow  beach  on 
each  side,  of  the  most  glittering  whiteness,  contrasting 
with  the  beautiful  azure  waters  by  which  it  is  environed. 

5.  From  end  to  end  of  the  curved  isle  stretches  in  a 
straight  line  —  forming,  as  it  were,  the  cord  of  the  bow  —  a 
narrow  beach  of  the  same  snowy  whiteness,  almost  level 
with  the  sea  at  the  lowest  tide,  inclosing  a  semicircular 
space  of  water  between  it  and  the  island,  called  the  lagoon. 
Over  this  line  of  beach  —  which  occupies  the  leeward  side. 


342  THE    CRANE    FOURTH    READER. 

the  curve  being  to  windward  —  the  sea  is  breaking  with 
sublime  majesty. 

6.  The  long  unbroken  swell  of  the  ocean,  hitherto  un- 
bridled through  a  course  of  thousands  of  miles,  is  met  by 
this  rampart,  when  the  huge  billows,  rearing  themselves 
upward  many  yards  above  its  level  and  bending  their 
foaming  crests,  ^^  form  a  graceful  liquid  arch,  glittering  in 
the  rays  of  a  tropical  sun  as  if  studded  with  brilliants. 
But  before  the  eyes  of  the  spectator  can  follow  the  splen- 
did aqueous  gallery  which  they  appear  to  have  reared, 
with  loud  and  hollow  roar  they  fall  in  magnificent  deso- 
lation, and  spread  the  gigantic  fabric  in  froth  and  spray 
upon  the  horizontal  and  gently  broken  surface.'' 

7.  Contrasting  strongly  with  the  tumult  and  confusion 
of  the  hoary  billows  without,  the  water  within  the  lagoon 
exhibits  the  serene  placidity  of  a  mill-pond.  Extending 
downward  to  a  depth  varying  from  a  few  feet  to  fifty 
fathoms,  the  waters  possess  the  lively  green  hue  common 
to  soundings  on  a  white  or  yellow  ground,  while  the  sur- 
face, unruffled  by  a  wave,  reflects  with  accurate  distinct- 
ness the  mast  of  the  canoe  that  sleeps,  upon  its  bosom,  and 
the  tufts  of  the  cocoanut-plumes  that  rise  from  the  beach 
above  it.  Such  is  a  coral  island ;  and  if  its  appearance  is 
one  of  singular  loveliness,  as  all  who  have  seen  it  testify, 
its  structure,  on  examination,  i-s  found  to  be  no  less  inter- 
esting and  wonderful. 

8.  The  beach  of  white  sand  which  opposes  the  whole 
force  of  the  ocean  is  found  to  be  the  summit  of  a  rock 
which  rises  abruptly  from  an  unknown  depth  like  a  per- 
pendicular wall.  The  whole  of  this  rampart,  as  far  as  our 
senses  can  take  cognizance  of  it,  is  composed  of  living 


THE    CRANE    FOURTH   READER.  343 

coral ;  and  the  same  substance  forms  the  foundation  of  the 
curved  and  more  elevated  side,  which  is  smiling  in  the 
luxuriance  and  beauty  of  tropical  vegetation.  The  eleva- 
tion of  the  coral  to  the  surface  is  not  always  abruptly 
perpendicular :  sometimes  reefs  of  varying  depths  extend 
to  a  considerable  distance,  in  the  form  of  successive  plat- 
forms or  terraces. 

9.  In  these  regions  may  be  seen  islands  in  every  stage 
of  their  formation,  ''  some  presenting  little  more  than  a 
point  or  summit  of  a  branching  coralline  pyramid,  at  a 
depth  scarcely  discernible  through  the  transparent  waters ; 
others  spreading  like  submarine  gardens  or  shrubberies 
beneath  the  surface,  or  presenting  here  and  there  a  little 
bank  of  broken  coral  and  sand,,  over  which  the  rolling  wave 
occasionally  breaks ; ''  while  others  exist  in  the  more  ad- 
vanced state  I  have  just  described,  the  main  bank  suffi- 
ciently elevated  to  be  permanently  protected  from  the 
waves  and  already  clothed  with  verdure,  and  the  lagoon 
inclosed  by  the  narrow  bulwark  of  the  coral  reef. 

10.  Though  the  rampart  thus  reared  is  sufficient  to  pre- 
serve the  inner  waters  in  a  peaceful  and  mirror-like  calm- 
ness, it  must  not  be  supposed  that  all  access  to  them  from 
the  sea  is  excluded.  It  almost  invariably  happens  that  in 
the  line  of  reef  one  or  more  openings  occur,  which  though 
sometimes  narrow  and  intricate  so  as  scarcely  to  allow  the 
passage  of  a  native  canoe,  are  not  unf  requently  of  sufficient 
width  and  depth  to  permit  the  free  ingress  of  large  ships. 

11.  The  advantage  to  man  of  these  openings  is  very  great. 
By  these  entrances  the  lovely  lagoons  are  converted  into 
quiet,  safe,  and  commodious  havens. 


344 


THE    CRANE    FOURTH    READER., 


LESSOI^  CXV. 

hedge'Yow  gay'e  if  ear^nest  nes5 

roy'al  '  Maj'es  t^  ^lus'ter  mg 

flick'ered  Blgh'ness  veg'e  ta  bk 

THE  THREE   KINGDOMS. 

1.  King  Frederick  William  of  Prussia 

Walked  in  the  fair  green  woods  one  day, 
When  trees  and  flowers  were  fresh  with  the  life 

That  wakes  in  the  month  of  May; 
And,  as  he  walked,  "'twas  with  joy  he  saw 

The  violet's  shady  bed. 
The  primrose  pale,  and  the  wild  flowers  fair, 

And  the  birch  tassels  overhead. 

2.  Well  pleased  was  he  to  have  left  awhile 

Berlin's  gay  and  crowded  street, 
To  forget  for  a  time  his  kingly  cares, 

'Mid  the  blossoming. hedge- rows  sweet; 
And  laying  his  royal  robes  aside. 

Unnoticed  to  walk  abroad. 
To  learn,  from  the  beauty  of  fields  and  flowers, 

New  lessons  of  Nature's  God. 

3.  Spring  sunshine  flickered  across  his  path. 

As  he  strolled  through  the  leafy  glade. 
Till  he  came  to  a  spot  where  a  joyous  group 

Of  village  children  played. 
Gathering  cowslips  with  eager  haste, 

All  happy  as  happy  could  be; 
And  the  king  looked  on  till  his  heart  grew  gay 

Their  gayety  to  see. 


THE    CKANE    FOURTH    READER.  345 

4.  He  called  them,  at  last,  around  him  there, 

In  the  mossy,  flower-strewn  dell. 
And  soon  they  came  clustering  about  him, 

For  they  knew  his  kind  face  well ; 
Then,  smiling,  he  held  up  an  orange 

That  chanced  in  his  hand  to  be : 
"  To  which  of  the  three  kingdoms  does  this  belong. 

My  little  folks! "  said  he. 

5.  The  children  were  silent  awhile ;  at  last 

A  bright  little  fellow  said, 
''  To  the  vegetable  kingdom,  your  Majesty." 

The  good  king  nodded  his  head: 
"  Well  said ;  quite  right.    Now  the  orange  shall  be 

Your  own,  my  brave  little  man ; " 
And  he  tossed  the  orange  to  him,  crying  out, 

''  Catch  my  cowslip  ball,  if  you  can." 

6.  Then  gayly  the  king  in  the  sunshine 

A  crown-piece  held  up  to  view: 
"  Now  to  which  of  the  kingdoms  does  this  belong ! 

Who  guesses,  shall  have  this,  too." 
"  To  the  mineral  kingdom,  your  Highness," 

A  little  lad  quick  replies; 
As  the  silver  coin  in  the  sunlight  shone, 

So  sparkled  his  eager  eyes. 

7.  "Well  answered;   so  here's  your  crown,"  said  the 

king. 

And  placed  the  prize  in  his  hand, 
Wliile  around  him  the  other  children 

Delighted  and  wondering  stand. 
"  One  question  more  I  will  ask,"  said  the  king, 


346 


THE    CRANE    FOURTH    READER. 


"And  'tis  neither  hard  nor  long; 
Now  tell  me,  my  little  people  all, 
To  which  kingdom  do  I  belong? " 

8.  In  the  group  of  little  ones  gathered  there. 

Stood  a  tiny,  blue-eyed  child; 
With  her  clustering  curls  of  golden  hair. 

And  voice  and  manners  mild; 
Full  of  thoughtful  grace  was  her  childish  face. 

With  an  earnestness  sweet  to  see: 
Simply  she  answered  the  king  —  ''I  think, 

To  the  kingdom  of  Heaven,"  said  she. 
King  Frederick  stooped  down,  and  in  his  arms 

Took  the  little  maiden  then, 
And  kissing  her  brow,  he  softly  said, 

"Amen,  dear  child.  Amen." 

J.  E.  Bendall. 


No  vem'ber 
cov^er  lid§ 


LESSON    CXVI. 

rev^er  ent 
view^less  (vti) 

DOWN  TO  SLEEP. 


c/«o^rus 
watQh'mg 


HELEN   HUNT   JACKSON. 


Helen  Hunt  Jackson  (1831-1885),  better 
known  by  her  pen-name,  "  H.  H.,"  was  born  at 
Amherst,  Massachusetts.  Her  maiden  name  was 
Fiske.  Her  early  married  life  was  spent  at  New- 
port, R.  I.  Later,  she  removed  to  Colorado 
Springs,  Colorado.  She  died  in  San  Francisco. 
She  wrote  many  beautiful  poems.  The  novel 
Ramona,  published  in  1884,  is  her  best-known 
work.  She  was  fond  of  children,  and  wrote  many 
stories  for  them.  She  was  a  woman  of  sj^mpa- 
thetic,  affectionate  nature,  and  her  memory  is 
held  in  reverence  by  the  American  people. 


THE    CRANE    FOURTH   READER.  347 

1.  November  woods  are  bare  and  still, 

November  days  are  clear  and  bright, 
Each  noon  burns  up  the  morning's  chill. 

The  morning's  snow  is  gone  by  night ; 

Each  day  my  steps  grow  slow,  grow  light, 
As  through  the  woods  I  reverent  creep, 
Watching  all  things  lie  "  down  to  sleep.'' 

2.  I  never  knew  before  what  beds. 

Fragrant  to  smell  and  soft  to  touch. 
The  forest  sifts,  and  shapes,  and  spreads ; 

I  never  knew  before  how  much 

Of  human  sound  there  is  in  such 
Low  tones  as  through  the  forest  sweep 
When  all  wild  things  lie  ''down  to  sleep." 

3.  Each  day  I  find  new  coverlids 

Tucked  in,  and  more  sweet  eyes  shut  tight; 
Sometimes  the  viewless  mother  bids 

Her  ferns  kneel  down,  full  in  my  sight ; 

I  hear  their  chorus  of  ''  good-night," 
And  half  I  smile  and  half  I  weep. 
Listening  while  they  lie  "  down  to  sleep." 

4.  November  woods  are  bare  and  still, 

November  days  are  bright  and  good. 
Life's  noon  burns  up  life's  morning  chill. 

Life's  night  rests  feet  which  long  have  stood ; 

Some  warm,  soft  bed,  in  field  or  wood. 
The  mother  will  not  fail  to  keep. 
Where  we  can  lay  us  "  down  to  sleep." 

Helen  Hunt  Jackson.  . . 


348 


THE    CKANE    FOUKTH    KEADER. 


LESSOAT    CXVII. 


han6?'s6me 
pfous 
diri  gent  ly- 
griey^oHs 


as  ton^ish  ment 
pur^chas  er 
a  part^ment 
mar^riage 


Qel^e  brat  ed 
dis  tin^guish 
dam^ask 
pre  served^ 


THE  SPINDLE,  THE  NEEDLE,  AND  THE  SHUTTLE. 

Jacob  Gkimm  (1785-1863)  was  a  German  historian  and  writer.  With 
his  brother,  William  Grimm,  he  Avrote  the  Fairy  Tales,  a  book  of  German 
folklore  stories.  It  has  been  translated  into  every  civilized  language,  and 
since  its  appearance,  in  1812,  has  maintained  a  widespread  popularity. 

1.  A  YOUNG  girl,  who  had  lost  both  parents  in  her  in- 
fancy, lived  in  a  little  cottage  at  the  end  of  the  village,  with 
an  old  woman,  who  took  care  of  her  and  brought  her  up 
to  be  industrious  and  pious.  The  maiden  earned  enough 
by  spinning  to  support  herself  and  the  old  woman.  When 
the  girl  was  in  her  fifteenth  year,  the  old  woman  fell  sick, 
and  one  day  called  her  to  her  bedside  and  said  to  her: 
''Dear  daughter,  I  feel  that  my  end  is  approaching,  so  I 
will  leave  you  this  cottage  and  all  that  is  in  it.  Here  you 
will  have  shelter  from  wind  and  weather;  and  with  the 
needle,  the  spindle,  and  the  shuttle,  you  can  easily  earn 
your  bread.'' 

2.  Then  laying  her  hand  on  the  maiden's  head,  she 
blessed  her  and  said:  "Keep  God  always  in  your  heart, 
and  you  will  never  go  wrong." 

3.  Not  many  days  after  this  the  old  woman  closed  her 
eyes  and  died,  and  the  poor  girl  followed  her  to  the  grave, 
weeping  bitterly. 


THE    CRANE    FOURTH   READER.  ^40 

4.  After  this  grievous  loss  the  maiden  lived  in  the  little 
cottage  quite  alone,  working  diligently  at  her  spinning  and 
weaving,  and  the  old  woman's  blessing  seemed  to  rest  upon 
all  she  did.  No  sooner  had  she  finished  weaving  a  piece 
of  cloth  or  carpet,  or  had  made  a  shirt,  than  a  purchaser 
was  quickly  found  who  paid  her  well ;  so  she  had  as  much 
as  she  needed  for  all  her  wants,  and  a  little  also  to  spare 
for  the  poor. 

5.  It  happened  about  this  time  that  the  son  of  the  king 
of  the  country  started  on  his  travels  to  find  a  bride.  The 
prince  could  choose  for  himself,  except  that  he  must  not 
choose  a  poor  maiden^  though  he  him.self  did  not  care  for 
riches.  So  he  decided  in  his  heart  that  he  would  try  to 
find  for  a  bride  a  girl  who  was  at  the  same  time  both  the 
richest  and  the  poorest  in  the  land. 

6.  Wlien  he  arrived  at  the  village  near  which  the  maiden 
dwelt  he  inquired  first  for  the  richest  young  woman  in  the 
place,  and,  on  being  told,  he  then  asked,  "And  which  is  the 
poorest?'' 

7.  "  The  poorest  is  a  maiden  who  lives  at  the  end  of  the 
village  in  a  little  cottage  all  alone,"  was  the  ready  reply. 
'"  Pier  cottage  is  easily  found,  for  a  winding  path  through 
a  field  leads  to  it." 

8.  The  prince,  in  going  to  this  cottage,  rode  through  the 
village,  and  at  the  door  of  a  stately  house  sat  a  girl  richly 
dressed.  As  the  king's  son  approached,  she  went  out  and 
bowed  before  him  in  a  most  courtly  manner.  The  prince 
looked  at  her,  but  he  said  not  a  word,  and  rode  on  without 
stopping  till  he  arrived  at  the  house  of  the  poor  girl. 

9.  She,  however,  was  not  seated  at  the  door,  but  was 


350 


THE   CRANE   FOURTH   READER. 


busily  at  work  in  her  own  little  room.  The  prince 
drew  rein,  alighted  from  his  horse,  and  peeped  into  the 
neat  apartment.  Just  at  that  moment  a  ray  of  sunshine 
darted  through  the  window,  and  lighted  up  everything 
within,  so  that  he  could  see  the  maiden  spinning  at  her 
wheel  with  the  most  earnest  diligence,  and  singing  as  she 
worked. 

10.  Presently  she  glanced  up,  and,  seeing  a  richly  dressed 
young  gentleman  looking  at  her  through  the  window,  she 
cast  down  her  eyes  and  continued  her  spinning,  while  her 
cheeks  became  covered  with  blushes. 

11.  Whether  the  threads  were  even  and  regular  at  that 
moment  we  cannot  say,  but  she  continued  to  spin  without 
looking  up  again  till  the  prince  had  remounted  his  horse 
and  ridden  away. 

12.  Then  she  rose  and  opened  the  window,  saying  to 
herself,  ^'  How  very  warm  the  room  is  to-day ! "  But  she 
looked  out  and  watched  the  stranger  till  she  could  no 
longer  distinguish  the  white  plume  in  his  hat,  and  not 
till  after  he  was  out  of  sight  did  she  return  to  her  spinning- 
wheel  and  work  as  busily  as  ever. 

13.  Her  thoughts  were  now  on  the  handsome  prince,  al- 
though she  knew  not  who  he  was;  still,  it  was  such  an 
unusual  event  for  a  gentleman  to  look  in  at  the  window  of 
her  lonely  cottage  that  she  could  not  forget  it. 

14.  At  last  strange  ideas  came  into  her  head,  and  she 
began  to  sing  some  curious  words  which  the  old  woman 
had  taught  her : 

"  Sj^Tidle,  spindle,  run  away; 
Fetch  my  lover  here  to-day!  " 


THE   CRANE   FOURTH   READER.  361 

15.  To  her  astonisliment,  the  spindle  leaped  from  her 
hands  that  very  moment,  and  rushed  out  of  the  house.  She 
ran  to  the  door  and  stood  looking  with  wondering  eyes 
after  the  magic  spindle,  for  it  was  running  and  dancing 
quite  merrily  across  the  field,  trailing  behind  itself  a 
bright  golden  thread.    Presently  it  was  lost  to  her  e^^es. 

16.  Having  no  longer  a  spindle,  she  took  up  her  shuttle, 
seated  herself,  and  commenced  weaving.  The  spindle^ 
meanwhile,  kept  on  its  way,  and  just  as  the  thread  came  to 
an  end,  it  overtook  the  prince. 

17.  "What  do  I  seeV  he  cried.  "The  thread  behind 
this  spindle  will  lead  me  to  good  fortune,  no  doubt.  I  will 
trace  it  back.'' 

18.  So  he  turned  his  horse  about  and  followed  up  the 
golden  thread. 

19.  The  maiden,  who  still  worked  on,  thought  presently 
of  another  of  the  rhymes  taught  her  by  the  old  woman, 
and  she  sang: 

"  Shuttle,  shuttle,  thou  art  free ; 
Bring  my  lover  home  to  me!  " 

20.  Instantly  the  shuttle  slipped  from  her  hand,  ran  to 
the  doorsill,  and  there  began  to  weave  the  most  lovely  car- 
pet ever  seen.  In  the  very  center,  on  a  golden  ground, 
appeared  a  green  creeping  plant,  and  around  it  bloomed 
blush  roses  and  white  lilies.  Hares  and  rabbits  appeared 
running  upon  it;  stags  and  deer  stood  beneath  trees,  in 
which  were  many  birds  of  beautiful  colors.  The  shuttle 
sprang  here  and  there,  and  the  carpet  seemed  to  grow  of 
itself. 


352  THE    CRANE    FOURTH    READER. 

21.  As  the  maiden  had  now  lost  both  spindle  and  shuttle, 
she  had  only  her  needle  left  to  work  with,  and  while  she 
sewed  she  sang: 

"Needle,  needle,  while  you  shine, 
Make  the  house  look   neat  and  fine!  " 

22.  On  this  the  needle  sprang  from  her  fingers  and  flew 
about  the  neat  little  room  as  quick  as  lightning.  It  seemed 
as  if  a  number  of  invisible  spirits  were  at  work,  for  the 
table  and  the  benches  were  quickly  covered  with  green 
cloth,  the  chairs  with  velvet,  and  curtains  of  silk  damask 
were  arranged  on  the  windows  and  on  the  walls. 

23.  Scarcely  had  the  needle  finished  the  last  stitch  when 
the  maiden  saw  through  the  window  the  white  plume  on  the 
prince's  hat,  for  he  had  followed  carefully  the  golden 
thread  till  it  reached  her  cottage. 

24.  He  alighted  from  his  horse  and  stepped  upon  the 
beautiful  carpet.  Then  entering  the  room,  he  saw  the 
maiden,  who,  even  in  her  homely  dress,  looked  as  lovely 
as  a  wild  rose. 

25.  "You  are  the  one  I  seek,"  he  said;  "at  once  the 
poorest  and  the  richest  maiden  in  the  world.  Will  you 
come  with  me  and  be  my  bride? " 

26.  She  did  not  speak,  but  she  held  out  her  hand  to  him. 
He  kissed  the  hand  she  offered,  led  her  out,  lifted  her  on 
his  horse,  and  rode  away  with  her  to  his  father's  castle. 
The  marriage  was  shortly  after  celebrated  with  great 
splendor  and  rejoicings.  The  needle,  the  spindle,  and  the 
shuttle  were  ever  after  preserved  with  great  honor  in  the 
royal  treasure-room.    Once  every  year,  however,  they  were 


J 


THE    CRANE    FOURTH    READER.  363 

brought  out  and  shown  to  all  the  people  that  wanted  to  see 
them.  We  may  be  sure  that  there  were  not  many  maidens 
in  the  kingdom  who  did  not  find  time  to  take  a  look  at  the 
implements  which  had  raised  a  humbly  born  girl  to  the 
rank  of  princess. 


EXTRACT  FROM  BRYANT'S  "FOREST  HYMN." 

My  heart  is  awed  within  me  when  I  think 
Of  the  great  miracle  that  still  goes  on, 
In  silence,  round  me  —  the  perpetual  work 
Of  thy  creation,  finished,  yet  renewed 
Forever.    Written  on  thy  works  I  read 
The  lesson  of  thy  own  eternity. 
Lo!  all  grow  old  and  die  —  but  see  again 
How  faltering  on  the  footsteps  of  decay 
Youth  presses  —  ever  gay  and  beautiful  youth : 
In  all  its  beautiful  forms.    These  lofty  trees 
Wave  not  less  proudly  that  their  ancestors 
Moulder  beneath  them.    Oh,  there  is  not  lost 
One  of  earth's  charms :  upon  her  bosom  yet. 
After  the  flight  of  untold  centuries. 
The  freshness  of  her  far  beginning  lies 
And  yet  shall  lie. 


354 


THE    CKANE    FOURTH   READER. 


LESSON^  CXVIII. 


coy^ote  (ki^ot) 
arie  go  ry 
at^mos  phere 
s€raw^n;y 


ig  no'bk 
de  libber  ate 
fren^zy- 
am  bf  tion 


per  gep'ti  bly 
de  pres5^e§ 
a  p6r6  giz  mg 


THE  COYOTE. 

Samuel  L.  Clemens  (Mark  Twain)  (1835)  is  a  native  of  Missouri. 
Much  of  his  life  has  been  spent  in  the  Eastern  States.  He  has  also  trav- 
eled extensively  abroad.  His  present  home  is  in  Hartford,  Connecticut.  He 
is  widely  known  as  a  humorist.  Among  his  writings  are  Roughing  It,  The 
Innocents  Abroad,  The  Tramp  Abroad,  Tom  Sawyer,  and  The  Gilded  Age, 
a  work  written  jointly  with  Charles  Dudley  Warner. 

1.  The  coyote  of  the  farther  deserts  is  a  long,  slim,  sick, 
and  sorry-looking  skeleton,  with  a  gray  wolf-skin  stretched 
over  it,  a  tolerably  bushy  tail  that  forever  sags  down  with 
a  despairing  expression  of  forsakenness  and  misery,  a 
furtive  and  evil  eye,  and  a  long,  sharp  face,  with  slightly 
lifted  lip  and  exposed  teeth. 

2.  He  has  a  general  slinking  expression  all  over.  The 
coyote  is.  a  living,  breathing  allegory  of  Want.  He  is 
always  hungry.  He  is  always  poor,  out  of  luck,  and  friend- 
less. The  meanest  creatures  despise  him,  and  even  the 
fleas  would  desert  him  for  a  velocipede.  He  is  so  spirit- 
less and  cowardly  that,  even  while  his  exposed  teeth  are 
pretending  a  threat,  the  rest  of  his  face  is  apologizing  for 
it.  And  he  is  so  homely!  —  so  scrawny,  and  ribby,  and 
coarse-haired,  and  pitiful ! 

3.  When  he  sees  you  he  lifts  his  lip  and  lets  a  flash  of 


THE    CEANE    FOURTH    READER.  355 

liis  teeth  out,  and  then  turns  a  little  out  of  the  course  he 
was  pursuing,  depresses  his  head  a  bit,  and  strikes  a  long, 
soft-footed  trot  through  the  sage-brush,  glancing  over  his 
shoulder  at  you,  from  time  to  time,  till  he  is  about  out  of 
easy  pistol  range,  and  then  he  stops  and  takes  a  deliberate 
survey  of  you ;  he  will  trot  fifty  yards  and  stop  again  — 
another  fifty,  and  stop  again ;  and  finally  the  gray  of  his 
gliding  body  blends  with  the  gray  of  the  sage-brush,  and 
he  disappears. 

4.  But  if  you  start  a  swift-footed  dog  after  him,  you  will 
enjoy  it  ever  so  much  —  especially  if  it  is  a  dog  that  has  a 
good  opinion  of  himself,  and  has  been  brought  up  to  think 
that  he  knows  something  about  speed.  The  coyote  will  go 
swinging  gently  otf  on  that  deceitful  trot  of  his,  and  every 
little  while  he  will  smile  a  f raudful  smile  over  his  shoulder 
that  will  fill  that  dog  entirely  full  of  encouragement  and 
worldly  ambition,  and  make  him  lay  his  head  still  lower  to 
the  ground,  and  stretch  his  neck  farther  to  the  front,  and 
pant  more  fiercely,  and  move  his  furious  legs  with  a  yet 
wilder  frenzy,  and  leave  a  broader  and  broader,  and  higher 
and  denser  cloud  of  desert  sand  smoking  behind,  and  mark- 
ing his  long  wake  across  the  level  country. 

5.  All  this  time  the  dog  is  only  a  short  twenty  feet  be- 
hind the  coyote,  and,  to  save  the  life  of  him,  he  cannot  un- 
derstand why  it  is  that  he  cannot  get  perceptibly  closer; 
and  he  begins  to  get  aggravated,  and  it  makes  him  madder 
and  madder  to  see  how  gently  the  coyote  glides  along,  and 
never  pants  or  sweats,  or  ceases  to  smile;  and  he  grows 
still  more  and  more  incensed  to  see  how  shamefully  he  has 


356 


THE   CRANE   FOURTH   READER. 


been  taken  in  by  an  entire  stranger,  and  what  an  ignoble 
swindle  that  long,  calm,  soft-footed  trot  is. 

6.  And  next  the  dog  notices  that  he  is  getting  fagged, 
and  that  the  coyote  actually  has  to  slacken  speed  a  little, 
to  keep  from  running  away  from  him.  And  then  that  town 
dog  is  mad  in  earnest,  and  he  begins  to  strain,  and  weep, 
and  paw  the  sand  higher  than  ever,  and  reach  for  the 
coyote  with  concentrated  and  desperate  energy. 

7.  This  "spurt"  finds  him  six  feet  behind  the  gliding 
enemy,  and  two  miles  from  his  friends.  And  then,  in  the 
instant  that  a  wild  new  hope  is  lighting  up  his  face,  the 
coyote  turns  and  smiles  blandly  upon  him  once  mofe,  and 
with  a  something  about  it  which  seems  to  say: 

8.  "Well,  I  shall  have  to  tear  myself  away  from  you, 
but  —  business  is  business,  and  it  will  not  do  for  me  to  be 
fooling  along  this  way  all  day."  And  forthwith  there  is  a 
rushing  sound,  and  the  sudden  splitting  of  a  long  crack 
through  the  atmosphere,  and  behold,  that  dog  is  solitary 
and  alone  in  the  midst  of  a  vast  solitude. 

Samuel  L.  Clemkns. 


YC  49899 


